Song Of The Wolf: The Lost Legacy
by OwlsWingProductions
Summary: Alanna is an orphan in the small village of Trebond. She's always been different, that much is clear, but no one knows just how different she actually is. Now, she'll start the journey of a lifetime to follow in her father's footsteps to become a Knight of the realm, and to protect the Royal Family from a lingering darkness. (Spoilers for Song of the Lioness Quartet! SOTL REWRITE)
1. Prologue: The Prophecy's Mark

_**Song Of The Wolf: The Lost Legacy**_

_**Prologue: The Prophecy's Mark**_

Outside the castle the night was alive with the sounds of swords clanging and warriors shouting in battle. The full moon stood as proof that the Great Mother Goddess stood watch over the horrible scene that lay on the earth below. Bodies of thousands of men were scattered across acres and acres of battle field and smoke from the towers of the dark castle blotched out the stars as the flames gave light to the warriors that battled against the raiders and marauders.

Just inside the castle a select few fought bravely against shadow creatures that stood six feet tall on all-fours. The Shadow Beast's had shield-like masks to cover their faces and tentacles that waved about above and beneath the shields. Their bodies were covered with the strange markings of the Twilight Realms and they had strange red markings on their chests and backs.

And even deeper within the castle's walls, past the entry hall where the five warriors fought, and on into the stone fortress was a large room. It's double doors were wide open and inside was the workshop of a mage. Gold, priceless artifacts and money was piled in one corner of the room and tables stood everywhere, filled with papers, potions, and vials of all shapes and sizes, each of them filled. A fire roared in the hearth and a cauldron hung above it as a man stood at the center of the room, sword drawn, while the bodies of life-size dolls - carved and shaped to look like the man's friends - littered the floor.

"It's over, Ghirahim. Call off your Shadow Beasts." The man ordered, his bright blue eyes blazing. But his breathing was labored and several wounds bled profusely.

The Dark Mage just laughed and snapped his fingers. A long, curved sword made of black metals appeared above his hand and he grabbed the handle. "You amuse me, Link. Do you honestly believe you can defeat me?"

Ghirahim's light tone was followed by a swift lunge that Link was just barely able to counter, bringing the two into a stalemate, both trying to overpower the other.

"You and your friends will die tonight." Ghirahim hissed in Link's face. "That is their punishment for following you here to my temple!" Ghirahim's face contorted in rage as he screeched his threat, breaking the stalemate so he could take a swing down at Link's head.

Link blocked it and then rolled around to Ghirahim's back, but his wounds slowed his movements and when he tried to slice the Dark Mage across the back, he whirled around and blocked it.

"This time there will be no heroic escape. I was a fool to toy with you and let you walk away with your life before." Ghirahim slid their swords hilt-to-hilt in another stalemate. "But I won't make that mistake again. I promise you that!"

They broke apart and Link jumped back, putting a good distance between himself and Ghirahim. He knew he didn't have the strength to continue on for much longer, not after such a battle that left him with so many injuries.

Ghirahim lunged forward again and Link had no choice but to raise his sword and block the attack. Blow after blow, Ghirahim stabbed and sliced and all Link could do was block, trying to ignore the throbbing pain coming from his side which had a long cut that bled excessively.

Ghirahim suddenly pulled back, growling, and snapped his fingers with his free hand. Another sword appeared above his other hand and he caught it as he had the first one. Wielding both swords, Ghirahim jumped into the air and disappeared.

Link's brow furrowed and he raised his shield. He threw himself backwards the second he sensed Ghirahim's presence and a second later both of Ghirahim's swords came down and struck the floor where Link had stood.

Link rushed at him, while his swords were stuck, but Ghirahim yanked his swords free and blocked Link's attack. Link pulled back and spun around on the bal of one foot, his sword moving so fast that the tip was a red-blue blur of sparking fire.

This move landed several strikes on Ghirahim, but they were on his arms where his charmed gloves protected him from the worst of the blows. Ghirahim jumped up again and disappeared a second time. Link whirled around, shield up, in search of his opponent. Once again he was able to sense Ghirahim just before he appeared and dove forward, rolling out of the way just in time.

Again Ghirahim struck the ground, but this time he stood and wrenched it out of the stone floor. Ghirahim lunged forward, the point of his sword aimed at Link's chest, and Link jumped backwards and then flipped back, to avoid the attack. He then lunged forward to meet Ghirahim, swiping one of Ghirahim's swords away with his shield and then slicing Ghirahim across the torso.

Link jumped back to avoid Ghirahim's counter attack with his other sword, but winced and faltered a bit once he landed his flip, leaning towards his injured side. Sweat dripped from his forehead and neck and down his back, his breathing was getting ragged, and he was beginning to see darkness around the edges of his vision.

Ghirahim lunged in again and Link raised his sword to block, but before their swords clanged together, Ghirahim disappeared and reappeared right behind Link, who whirled to face him, but when their swords met Link's blade wasn't strong enough and shattered, leaving him defenseless to Ghirahim's attack.

Ghirahim ran Link through with his sword.

Link fell to his knee, his hands trying to grip the sword that had already been pulled out. Blood poured from the fresh wound and even more blood spilled out of Link's mouth, flowing over his bottom lip and sliding down his chin.

"Hehehe, Hahaha, HAHAHA!" Ghirahim cackled as he stumbled backwards, his swords dissolving into diamond-shaped, orange-colored Twilight.

But Link didn't hear Ghirahim. The Dark Mage's gabble faded from his ears as a new image filled his eyes. Link Saw violets. Beautiful violet irises that glittered with unshed tears. Tiny, innocent hands gripping the Master Sword tightly. His Sight swirled and changed until fire engulfed his vision. All around, and in that fire, stood a shadowed figure that raised it's sword at another, smaller figure.

Link's Sight started to fade and the last thing he heard was a hauntingly beautiful Song of a Wolf.

Ghirahim's laughter had lessened to chuckles of giddiness as he stood over Link, who's eyes were shadowed by his shaggy blonde hair.

"Enjoy your Peaceful Realms, Wolf!" Ghirahim mocked him. "With you out of the way I will finally be able to take revenge on those wretched Conte's for my master!"

Link's left hand shot out and grabbed one of Ghirahim's arms in a firm grip, holding tight as the mark on the back of his hand burned with golden light.

"You may have won our battle, but you will never reach the Conte's." Link's grip tightened as the burning on his hand intensified.

"Let go of me, you blasted, filthy imp!" Ghirahim struggled against Link's grip as the magic of the Triforce burned into the skin of his arm.

"Be warned, Ghirahim. You speak of a thread of fate that bound us to each other. There is one other... That stands... Bound by that thread." Link's vision was beginning to fade around the edges, tunneling around Ghirahim's horrified face. "When the seventh petal of the moon-flower blooms, you will fall."

Ghirahim wrenched his arm free of Link's grasp and stumbled back, his other hand trembling as it barely even touched his arm. A violet colored, closed moon-flower, burned into the inside of his forearm. The violet colored outlines of the moon-flower swirled with magic and it burned until it finally settled.

"What have you done to me?" Ghirahim rounded on Link, eyes wide with terror. Link just smiled as he stared at the floor in front of him, his eyes clouded.

"You will fall, Ghirahim... And there is nothing your dark magic... Or your master... Can do... To save you." Link rasped, his vision blurring and his ears roaring. Ghirahim shrieked in rage and created another sword to swipe across Link's chest, pushing him back onto the floor. Ghirahim turned away from Link and ran across his workshop, grabbing various things as he prepared to flee his castle, and as the sounds of the approaching warriors grew louder and louder.

Link fell onto his back, his hand falling out to the side and as he stared at it, he saw the face of a beautiful little girl with tears falling from her violet eyes as she cried out for her father...

**AN:** Hey, guys! So, this is a story I have had written up for a while. I wanted to wait until I was finished with my Maximum Ride series, but since that's pretty much finished I decided to go ahead and post this. Let me know what you think and tell me if you're interested in the rest of the story. REVIEW, please! -Owl.


	2. The Trebond Orphanage

**_Chapter 1: The Trebond Orphanage_**

Red hair stuck to the young girl's forehead as ten-year-old, Alanna of Tortall grunted a bit and heaved the sack of flour into her arms, slowly heading towards the door of the cellar. As she stumbled into the sunlight of the early afternoon and out of the dark cellar, the young girl could hear the wailing baby inside the house.

She sighed and walked up the few steps to the front porch and then into the house with the large, heavy sack in her arms. As soon as Alanna opened the door the noise hit her like a team of horses pulling a coach. The two toddlers, both of them being boys, were screaming and throwing things at each other, and the little babe in the kitchen was wailing for her bottle.

Acting quickly, Alanna set down the sack of flour on the kitchen table and scooped up the two little boys, one in each arm. She plopped them down in the corner and gave them a stern look that made them stop crying.

"You two are gettin' older and you should know better." Alanna scolded them and they watched her with wide eyes. "Don't you move from that spot 'til you learn t' play nicely."

The two little boys fell completely silent and stared at the floor as Alanna looked between the two. When she was satisfied that the two wouldn't start fighting and screaming as soon as she turned her back again, Alanna turned and went into the kitchen where the little babe had stopped crying. She found Mama Rose rocking the little babe as she fed her with a bottle. Alanna smiled and started cleaning the mess that had been left in the kitchen by the two little boys while Mama Rose had been getting the babe's bottle ready.

Mama Rose had trained at the temple of the Great Mother Goddess to care for orphans and now she cared for the orphans of Trebond and the orphanage itself. The older woman was kind and loving. She had brown hair that was peppered with grey and pretty brown eyes. Mama Rose had taken Alanna into her care four years ago when she was only six.

Alanna placed the rest of the dirty dishes into a tub of water and soap for cleaning and then she got a wet towel to wipe the table clean. Once she finished with that, she went to get some rags so she could get started on cleaning the floors, but Mama Rose smiled and shook her head.

"No need for that, Alanna. You've done so many of your chores already and the floors will only get dirty again this evening when we gather for supper. Why don't you take that basket there and go into the village. There are cakes for Coram, cookies for Maude and Thom, and a few coppers for potatoes that I will need for supper tonight, so don't dawdle." Mama Rose's smile was lovely and Alanna couldn't help smiling back.

"Thank you, Mama Rose." Alanna bowed her head slightly and then hurried out of the kitchen, a slight hop in her step as excitement bubbled up inside her.

Outside, Alanna enjoyed the beautiful day, running around the side of the small cottage and out into a clearing filled with long grass. On her right was the orphanage and the road to the village of Trebond, to her left was the forests, and before her was a rise in the earth that became an overhang, giving her a few of the lower lands filled with forests and, off in the distance, open fields and the sparkling Olorun River.

Alanna had only ever dreamed about those lands and the beautiful river that ran across the heartland of the kingdom, Tortall, and through the capitol city, Corus. She remembered all the tales her father and mother had told her of the lands past the forests and across the realm.

Alanna sighed thinking about it. She let her eyes slide shut, standing on the edge of the rise and holding her arms out a bit and back as the wind whistled around her ears and blew lightly through her hair.

The small village of Trebond, where she had lived for the past four years, was a mountain fief. It stood at the foot of the mountains that separated Tortall from it's neighboring kingdom, Scanra, and the fief's castle was built more like a fortress, to defend against raiders from Scanra.

The fief was small, poor, and the Lord Trebond was so busy with his scrolls and books and studies, that the estates were left to manage themselves. The money that was supposed to go into feeding the orphans and caring for the people of Trebond, usually went to Clifton of Trebond, Lord Trebond's only son.

Lord Trebond and his son did not attend Court with the King and other nobles. Lord Trebond always had his nose in his books and cared about nothing else - including Trebond. As for Clifton, he was a drunk and he was arrogant, too. He claimed to be the best hunter in all the realm, but he couldn't even match Alanna's own skills in hunting and tracking. He constantly spent money that was meant for the fief on drink, food, and anything else for his vanity, while the villagers starved.

No, Alanna didn't like that man one bit. He was nearly nineteen years of age and he had only ever been to Corus once or twice at best. He didn't train as a Knight or sorcerer or anything and he didn't serve the crown in any possible way. He flirted with every girl he deemed 'pretty' and slept with them just as much. Everything he did was enough to make Alanna sick.

In truth the only reason Alanna stayed in Trebond at all was because Mama Rose and the other children in the orphanage needed all the help they could get. During the winter, when food was most expensive, it was mostly Alanna's hunting that they survived on, whether by selling it for money or by eating it themselves. The point was, Alanna couldn't abandon them because they needed her and she had nowhere else to go.

As the breeze faded, Alanna opened her eyes and took in the view once again. It was one of the few things she appreciated about the small village, even if it wasn't technically inside the village.

Alanna reached into the pocket on her old, ragged apron, and pulled out an Ocarina. The blue stone was clean and reflective. It held an almost magical quality to it. Alanna placed it up to her lips and gently blew into it, creating a melody that was as familiar to her as the back of her hand. It drifted through the air and echoed in her ears as the strange magic in the Ocarina laced through the song. Alanna opened her eyes as she heard galloping hoof-beats. She grinned as she saw a full-grown, golden stallion with a black mane and tail racing towards her.

The creature reached her and circled her excitedly, neighing his happiness at seeing her and nudging her with his nose before lunging away again to avoid her loving shoves. Alanna laughed and eventually caught the horse in a hug around it's snout. The very large beast nuzzled her cheek affectionately as she squeezed his face and then stepped back to look at him properly.

"You've gone and grown again!" Alanna smiled, petting the animal's snout soothingly. The horse whickered as his hooves kneaded the ground beneath him. "I'm sorry I hav'n't come t' see you more often lately." Alanna murmured, stroking the horse's snout with gentle hands.

The stallion shook out his mane a bit and nudged his neck underneath Alanna's elbow, trotting to stand beside her rather then in front of her. He tossed his head back a bit and then nickered. Alanna laughed.

"Not today, Spirit." Alanna sighed, petting the beast's shoulder. The stallion, Spirit, snorted lightly, nudging her cheek with his nose. "I'm sorry, but my breeches 'ave still got that hole in 'em an' you know I just hate ridin' in a skirt."

Spirit's ears drooped and he nudged her with his full head this time, making Alanna giggle. She stumbled back and fell on her backside, not hard though, and Spirit nuzzled her even more. She tried to reach up and grab his ears, but he tossed his head back and trotted around her in circles as she tried to catch him.

"You silly beast!" She couldn't help but laugh. She managed to get a hold on his ears and scratch behind them, holding his face close to her's. "Now you listen here. I've got t' go into town for Mama Rose, but I'll be back soon, okay?"

Spirit blew out of his nose and nuzzled Alanna's cheek gently. Alanna stroked his snout a few times, kissed it, and then stood and started towards the dirt path that led to the village.

Spirit trotted along with her, going as far as the small bridge that crossed over the creek, with her before turning back and galloping away. As Alanna crossed the bridge with less then five steps, she couldn't help but feel a little glad that she had convinced Spirit that it was best if he stay away from the central area of the village. Trebond was a small, tiny village near the border. Black Merchants and raiders were a common thing and they could make a fortune off of Spirit, should they ever catch him.

Alanna sighed as she entered the village, noting in her mind that everything still looked exactly the same, as always. The baker was arguing with his wife, the fruit-seller peddled his fruits and vegetables, the butcher pushed his goods, the clothier and her husband, the cobbler, worked out in the sun as they watched the garments they had up for display and sale.

Alanna returned all of their greetings and forced a smile or two, but didn't stop to chat. With the basket swinging lightly in her hand, Alanna made her way through the market portion of the village until she came to the Blacksmith House. Smoke rose from the open door and Alanna could already hear the crackling of the roaring fire. As she entered the blacksmith's workshop, the heat hit her like a wall, but she was used to it after spending so many years visiting the place, so it didn't effect her much at all.

"Coram!" Alanna called to the working man over the roar of the fire. "Coram!" She called again when he didn't seem to notice her the first time. The man turned away from tending the fire to see who his visitor was and then turned back to his work when he realized it was only Alanna.

"In a minute, lass. This is important." He told her, using his large, metal tongs to pull a specially made, clay bowl out of the fire. Inside the bowl was melted metal and Coram carried it over to a mold that he had laid out before hand, pouring the liquid metal into the mold with an expert hand.

Alanna hurried over, standing on the opposite side of the mold so she would be out of the way, and noted with great interest that the mold was that of a broadsword: The kind of sword a Knight would use.

"Who's that for?" Alanna's eyebrows rose excitedly as she questioned Coram curiously. Coram gave her a careful look and then turned to put down his tongs and the now-empty bowl and to strip off his thick, leather work gloves.

"An ol' friend of mine, Duke Gareth of Naxen." Coram kept a cautious eye on Alanna as he spoke. "His sword broke 'bout three weeks back an' he wrote me askin' for a new one... I'll be deliverin' it t' Corus tomorrow." Coram added the last part reluctantly as Alanna's eyes widened.

"You're goin' t' Corus an' you didn't tell me?" She asked incredulously. Coram sighed.

He was a middle-aged man, beaten and scarred from his time serving in the King's army. He had a thin beard and short, brown hair. His eyes were dark and he was a large man. His sword was bigger then Alanna and he could wield it with one hand - a show of his skills as a swordsman.

"I didn't tell ye, because I knew ye'd start talkin' 'bout Knighthood an' swords an' anythin' not lady-like." Coram snorted slightly and Alanna crossed her arms over her chest.

"But, Coram -!" Alanna tried to protest, but Coram cut her off.

"Lass, ye've got th' heart of a true warrior. But ye've got t' learn t' be thankful for what ye've got. Mama Rose an' Maude can help ye t' make a good life 'ere. An' Thom is yer friend, he'd hate t' see ye go." Coram told her.

"Thom would get over it an' I am thankful for what I've got..." Alanna grumbled.

"Ye're every bit a fighter, lass. But I don't make th' rules. Girl's aren't allowed t' be Knights. Tis th' law." Coram placed a large, heavy hand on Alanna's shoulder and she peered up at him from beneath her long eyelashes.

"Mama Rose made cakes." She mumbled, not wanting to hear about the laws again.

Coram smiled widely and accepted the basket Alanna offered him. He walked over to a table and pulled off the handkerchief that covered the top of the basket. The cakes were on top, so Coram took them out and placed them on the table.

"Ah, still fresh." Coram sighed contentedly as he inhaled the sweet scent. "Ye be sure t' tell Mama Rose 'thank ye' for me."

"I always do." Alanna replied simply, taking the basket once Coram handed it back to her with the handkerchief on it.

"Lass, if it were up t' me, I would make ye a page in a heartbeat. But nobles are proud an' stupid. Very few can accept an orphan easily. No one would accept ye bein' a girl." Coram uttered.

Alanna didn't reply. She just placed the basket back onto her arm and walked towards the door as Coram turned and picked up some tongs and a hammer to start shaping the broadsword properly. Alanna paused at the door and turned her head to the side, just enough so she could see Coram out of the corner of her eye.

"Coram." The big man stopped, his hammer in mid-air, and looked at the small girl at his door. "I will be a Knight. One day. I swear I will."

Alanna left before Coram could respond, not that she was expecting a response at all, but the man suddenly felt ten years older as he sighed, letting his hammer fall to his side.

"Poor little lass. If only ye were 'ere, Link. If any lad could bring a girl t' th' pages wing, it'd be ye. Gods all bless yer restin' soul." Coram murmured, his head bowed respectfully as he drew the sign against evil on his chest.

**AN:** How'd you like it? Let me know! R&amp;REVIEW! -Owl.


	3. A Reason To Leave

**_Chapter 2: A Reason To Leave_**

After leaving Coram's blacksmiths house, Alanna continued on through the market place, towards the quieter parts of town, where the clinic was. Although part of her was distracted by her thoughts about her conversation with Coram, she walked up the steps to the porch and opened the door. Her arrival was announced by the small bell above the door.

"I hate that bell." Alanna scowled at the thing before turning forward to look at the woman she had been talking to without looking.

Maude, Trebond's healing woman, was seated at the table in the kitchen where a tea kettle was heating above the fire. Maude smirked lightly at Alanna's comment and then stood to welcome the girl.

"Good afternoon, Alanna. How is Mama Rose?" Maude asked politely and Alanna came over to join her, setting the basket on the table.

"She's fine. Th' babe's all better now. No more sniffles, thanks t' your potion." Alanna informed the older woman and they both settled into the seats around the table.

"That's good." Maude sighed happily. "I was worried I might have to give the little one something stronger, but that's not too good for them when they're that young."

"I'm not surprised she recovered. She's been around Alanna too long to not be stubborn." Thom entered the room from the back, smirking as he joked. Alanna swiped at him as he came closer, but he narrowly avoided it and then wrapped an arm around her shoulders in a friendly, one-arm hug. "Good to see you, Alanna." He said.

Thom was much older then Alanna. Six years to be exact. He was sixteen and Maude's apprentice. He was learning to control his magic and to use it for healing. He had auburn brown hair with a dash of copper here and there and fascinating emerald green eyes. He was tall and lanky, but he had a powerful Gift and the strong hands of a sorcerer.

"It's good t' see you, too, Thom." Alanna grinned lightly at her friend. Thom had quickly become like an older brother to Alanna as soon as she arrived and they were close, in a sibling way.

"So, what brings you to the village today?" Maude raised an eyebrow suspiciously and Alanna rolled her eyes.

"Just makin' a few deliveries for Mama Rose." Alanna replied, pushing the basket across the table, towards Maude. The older woman pulled off the handkerchief that covered the top and smiled, pulling out the cookies Mama Rose had baked from the basket.

"Mama Rose." Maude shook her head as she placed the gift on the table. "Best cookies in all of Trebond. She could make a living in Corus with baked goods like these."

"Mama Rose would never leave the orphanage, though." Thom reminded her as he joined them by taking a seat at the table.

"Well, the woman did train at the Great Mother Goddess temples. She knows her place in life and she's happy with it." Maude sighed and shrugged.

"Now that you've got the cookies Mama Rose made, I've got t' get goin'. Mama Rose needs potatoes for supper tonight an' -" Alanna spoke quickly, standing and gathering up the basket in her arms, but she was cut off by Maude's calm voice.

"Have you given your future any thought recently, Alanna?" The younger girl winced as she slowly turned to face the two healers again and plopped back into her chair.

"I think 'bout it every day." Alanna told them, staring intently at the wooden top of the table. "An' I know what I want t' do an' who I want t' be." Maude took a deep breath and Thom's brow creased as he realized what conversation was coming. "I don't care what anyone says! Th' law says anyone can be a Knight! Noble, common-folk, or orphan."

"Yes, any _boy_ can be a Knight. Even if you somehow convinced the Training Master and the King to let you become a Page, you'll never be accepted by the other boys or the conservative families." Maude spoke gently, but her breath came out in a sigh. They'd already had this conversation many times. "And your lack of an education would also effect the matter. Noble lads are taught to read, write and do basic figures before they are sent to Knight training. You're lacking in all three of those subjects."

"But I'm a natural with a sword! An' Spirit an' me are the best ridin' team 'round!" Alanna protested. "I know you're all just worryin' 'bout me, but I want t' be a Knight! It's my dream."

"We know that, Alanna." Thom assured her. "It's just that we don't want you stuck in Corus with nowhere to go because the palace wouldn't take you."

Alanna fell silent for a long moment. Maude, Thom, Coram, Mama Rose; they all worried about her. They all had the same point, which was actually a pretty good one, but she couldn't let the fear of 'what might not be' keep her from trying for her dreams. If she was going to be afraid, then she wanted to do it on her own terms, doing what she wanted to with her life.

"Thank you for caring 'bout me. It's meant a lot t' me since I got 'ere. It make's bein' alone a bit easier. But this is my dream an' I'm not givin' up on it." Alanna told them, picking up Mama Rose's basket and placing it on her arm. "I've got t' go get Mama Rose those potatoes now, but I'll come back for a visit soon." She promised, standing up and heading for the door.

"Take care of yourself, Alanna." Thom called out lightly after her. Alanna stopped at the door and turned half way back to him, giving him a nod, and then she was gone. "Do you think she'll be okay? Wherever she may end up?" Thom's eyes were clouded with worry and a sadness at what might become of his adopted little sister.

"I do not know. I am no Seer, Thom." Maude sighed heavily, leaning back in her chair. "We can only hope for the best."

About an hour later, Alanna was handing the few coppers Mama Rose had given her to the fruit and vegetable peddler. He tipped his hat at her as he accepted the coppers and placed them in a small chest with the rest of his days earnings. In turn, Alanna took a sack of potatoes from one of the crates surrounding the man's stand and waved goodbye.

She wandered off, away from the shops, and towards the outer buildings of the village as she slowly made her way back towards the orphanage. The buildings around this part of the village, farthest away from the Trebond castle, were the single, tiny inn and the tavern next to it. The rest was mostly housing or storage for the village's crops.

As Alanna neared this part of town, she realized with a cringe that the tavern was already stirring with a bit of life. With the work done for the day, Clifton and the men of the village that flocked to him were getting an early start on their nightly drinking. They lingered on the long front porch of the tavern, joking and drinking loudly. Alanna could already see the sway in their steps.

She considered going around the long way, to avoid the tavern altogether, but then she would have to double back the way she had come for a good ten minutes and then take another twenty to go the long way around. Alanna shook the thought away quickly, she'd be late if she did that and then Mama Rose would be worried.

She took a deep breath and started walking again, giving the tavern a wide birth and keeping to the shadows as well as she could. Sadly, it wasn't dark enough to offer the coverage she needed to avoid being seen. Clifton spotted her in the shadow's when she was just about halfway past the tavern and sauntered over as a smug smile crept onto his face.

"Alanna!" He exclaimed, the drink in his half-full tankard swishing around dangerously close to the rim.

"Trebond." Alanna rolled her eyes, keeping her voice clipped and gruff. "What a surprise." There was a touch of sarcasm in her voice and she noticed Clifton's eyebrow twitch in annoyance when she called him, simply, 'Trebond'. She knew he wanted her to call him 'Master Clifton' because that was his proper title and Alanna's stubbornness was legendary. Clifton and the young men that followed him considered her a wild creature in need of taming.

And, because of that, Alanna would never, ever call Clifton 'Master'.

"I've been thinking, girl." Clifton leaned on one arm as he propped himself against the wall of the building behind Alanna.

"Must'a been hard fer yer tiny brain." Alanna muttered under her breath, her mouth contorting in disgust as she got a sniff of Clifton's breath.

"And I had an idea." Clifton continued grandly, completely oblivious to Alanna's comment. "It really is quite a smart idea. And so, I'm here to tell you that today is the day when all your dreams come true." Clifton's arm fell from the wall only to wrap around Alanna's shoulders. He gripped her shoulders tightly and her hair bristled.

"What do you know about my dreams?" Alanna demanded, shoving Clifton's arm off of her and taking a few steps back, away from him.

"Plenty!" He announced. "Picture this; A strong, stone castle. My latest kill roasting on the fire." Alanna stopped moving away from Clifton when her lower back bumped into a log fence behind her and he placed his hands on either side of her, leaning towards her almost casually. "My little wife, massaging my feet. While the little one's play on the floor with the dogs. -We'll have six or seven." Clifton informed her, leaning in even closer.

"Dogs?" Alanna asked, feeling horrible for the poor girl that would be stuck with this scut for the rest of her life.

"No! Strapping young boys, like me!" He grinned enthusiastically as he pushed off the fence to throw his hands in the air.

"Sounds like a sarden life." Alanna muttered, slipping away from Clifton while he was distracted by his reflection.

"And do you know who that little wife will be?" Clifton hurried ahead of her to cut her off, forcing Alanna to stop.

"Let me think." Alanna replied, stumbling back a step before righting herself and starting to walk backwards, away from Clifton.

"You, Alanna." He suddenly lunged forward and, by instinct, Alanna put up her forearm in defense. He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him, making her drop her basket with the potatoes and left-over coppers.

"Let go of me!" Alanna struggled, hating the bound and trapped feeling that was overwhelming her senses.

"Say you'll marry me." Clifton's eyes were dark with a drunken rage and his grip tightened on her arm. Alanna heard footsteps behind her and swung her head around to see Clifton's cronies coming towards them.

"You're a cracknob and a craven! I will never marry you!" Alanna yanked her arm free of Clifton's grip and scooped her basket back into her arms, narrowly escaping Clifton's grasp as he reached for her a second time.

"You'll regret this, girl!" Clifton hissed as his cronies got closer and closer. "I'll see you as my wife."

"You might as well try t' pluck a rat!" Alanna spat at him.

"If you won't come with me now, then I'll take you by force in the morning!" Clifton swore and Alanna's hair bristled with nervous energy.

Clifton wasn't lying. He was a spoiled nobleman and if he didn't get what he wanted, he would have his guards and soldiers take it for him by force. He would have Alanna in shackles by dawn.

Alanna didn't bother responding to Clifton's threat. His cronies were almost upon them and she didn't want to be anywhere near them while they were so swilled. She turned and ran as fast as she could. Drops of rain started to hit her face as she ran towards the orphanage. Her basket weighed down her arm as she ran up the steps of the front porch and burst into the orphanage.

The toddlers were dozing on the floor in the main room, Mama Rose was stirring something in a pot in the blazing hearth, and the infant slept soundly in her crib in the kitchen. Alanna rushed forward as quietly as she could and partially dropped the basket on the table because her hands were shaking so violently. Mama Rose looked up from the meal she was cooking in the pot, but Alanna was already half-way to the door.

"Alanna, you're back." Mama Rose smiled. "Don't go too far, supper will be ready in just a few minutes, and stay out of the rain or you'll catch a cold!" Mama Rose looked worried.

"I'm not hungry!" Alanna called back over her shoulder as she ran out of the door before Mama Rose could stop her.

Alanna heard Mama Rose call after her, but she didn't turn back. She kept running until she reached the trees of the forest and then she kept going. She ran through the trees, getting cuts and scrapes from the branches and thorns that whacked her arms and face. She stumbled into a familiar clearing and ran to the far side of it and collapsed against an old tree with thick roots that stuck up out of the ground.

Her shaking fingers clawed at the rough bark as she rested her head against it, trying uselessly to steady her breathing. The rain poured down all around her and, even with the cover of the tree above her, Alanna was still drenched. She trembled violently, but it wasn't because of the cold or because of the tears most other young girls would sob when realizing they would be forced into marriage come morning.

She didn't know how long she stayed out there, but she was only brought out of her daze-like trance when a flash of lightening flickered across the sky and thunder rolled between the dark clouds above.

Alanna lifted her head just enough for her eyes to be seen above her arms and a second flash sent another booming roll of thunder echoing across the sky.

Alanna's soaked body dripped on the floor of the orphanage as she padded down the hall. She tiptoed into Mama Rose's room, careful not to wake her, and placed a moonflower on the small table beside her bed. She felt horrible that she wouldn't give the woman who had helped her so much a proper goodbye, but she had no other choice.

She went on down the hall, a shadow in the dark as the flashes of lightening appeared through the cracks in the shutters. Alanna went to her own room and grabbed her father's sword, kneeling before the window as the rain continued to pour.

She pulled the sword from it's sheath with a long hiss and held it in one hand as she grabbed her long, red hair with the other. She placed the sword at a proper angle so she wouldn't hurt herself, pulled back, and then sliced through her copper hair as easily as water. Locks of it fell to the floor as she cut more and more off until all that was left was a shaggy mop on the top of her head.

She continued on to the cupboard in the main sitting room where they kept all the clothes. Alanna pulled out a shirt, and breeches that had once been Thom's, back when he still lived with them at the orphanage. She pulled the clothes on and tied off her belt. She finished dressing by using her right hand and her teeth to tie an old, tattered piece of bandaging around her left hand, covering an old birth mark.

Going back to her room, Alanna quietly gathered the few things she had; her sword, her Ocarina, and a patchy old cloak that she usually only wore during the worst of weather.

With nothing left for her at the orphanage, Alanna gave her last, silent, farewell to the haven that had rescued her years ago and then gripped her cloak tighter around her as she walked out into the rain.

She called Spirit with her song and he eyed her suspiciously when he saw how much she had changed in just a few hours. Alanna ignored the look and climbed onto his back, gripping his mane so she had something to hold on to.

With one last look towards the Orphanage of Trebond, Alanna gently kicked the stallion's sides and they ran off into the pouring rain as thunder and lightening rolled overhead.

**AN:** I think it's the first 3 or 4 chapters that were heavily inspired by Disney, so please excuse the cheesiness and I own nothing! Read &amp; Review! -Owl.


	4. Following His Footprints

**_Chapter 3: Following His Footprints_**

Alanna looked up at the clinic, standing in the rain as she argued with herself whether she should go in or not. A light shone from behind the shutters of the kitchen window and shadows moving about inside were just as visible.

_"They deserve a right an' proper goodbye. An' who else will tell Mama Rose where you've run away t'?"_ Alanna scolded herself. Already feeling horrible about leaving Mama Rose with nothing but a flower, Alanna decided to go into the clinic.

Walking up the steps, she opened the door without hesitation, knowing that the two inside were already awake and waiting. Maude and Thom sat at the table in the kitchen with two cups of tea before them. Their expressions were grim and Alanna had a feeling they knew why she was here.

"Thom had a strange dream. He was certain it had something to do with you, so we stayed up. What are you doing here, Alanna?" Maude asked after her brief explanation.

"I'm leavin'." Alanna announced, her mouth suddenly dry and her words sticking to her throat.

"And where do you plan to go?" Maude demanded, not harshly, but her voice was a little sharp.

"Coram's leavin' for Corus in th' mornin' an' I can't stay here." Alanna told her, standing firm as her clothes dripped rain water onto the floor of the clinic.

"Why not?" Thom finally burst out, standing so quickly that his chair screeched against the floor and then fell over behind him. "Mama Rose needs you!" Alanna knew Thom meant what he said about Mama Rose, but she could also see in his eyes that he didn't want to see her go because they were friends and he was worried about her.

"...Clifton is comin' for me in th' mornin'. He's sworn that we'll be wed. He'll bring his soldiers from the castle an' shackles. I have t' leave now, while I still have th' chance! Even if th' palace doesn't take me in an' Coram says he won't take me along, I've got t' go." Alanna hesitated, but then she decided that they would find out sooner or later and she'd rather they hear it from her.

Maude and Thom looked at each other, shocked. They knew Clifton had occasionally showed interest toward Alanna before, but never had either of them thought he would actually act upon it. They always assumed he saw Alanna as more of a prize to be won, which still made sense, but they never would have imagined he would force her into marriage.

However, they both knew what Alanna would be forced to live with if Clifton had his way. He would never remain faithful. He would see Alanna as a poor, little orphan that no one wanted. He would convince himself that he had saved her from a horrible life and that she owed him something. He would be unfaithful to her, he would beat her no doubt, and he would treat her as a slave.

Neither of them could doom her to such a life by insisting she stay.

"I'm sorry... But I can't stay 'ere an' be forced into marryin' him. I've got to leave. At least this way, I'll be followin' my dreams." Alanna looked at the floor, hoping they would understand.

They were silent for a long time, but finally Maude heaved a heavy sigh.

"Thom, fetch some vervain from that shelf there. Alanna, come over here, by the fire." Maude ordered them about in a tired voice, pointing to which shelf Thom was to get the vervain from and to a spot before the hearth where Alanna sat down.

A small fire crackled and popped in the hearth, keeping the clinic warm as the rain continued to pour outside. The chill Alanna had felt after riding in the rain faded as she sat by the fire.

Maude settled next to her as Thom hurried over with a packet of the leaves from the plant vervain. Maude made the sign against evil on her chest and sent a silent prayer to the Great Mother Goddess. People who tried to use magic the Gods had not given them often died in gruesome ways, so Maude could only hope that the Goddess would understand that she was simply looking for guidance.

She threw the leaves on the fire and it roared to life, turning a bright yellow from Maude's magic, as Alanna and Thom shielded their eyes from the brightness. Once their eyes had adjusted, the two youths lowered their arms, and Maude grabbed Alanna's, thrusting both of their hands into the flames.

Power shot up their arms, Maude's eyes squeezed shut with the pain and Alanna clenched her teeth. Maude's eyes snapped wide open suddenly and she stared blankly at the flames as she looked at something neither Alanna, nor Thom, could see.

Suddenly a picture started to form before Alanna's eyes. She frowned. This wasn't possible. Maude had cast the spell, so she was the only one who should See anything. But, ignoring all the laws of magic Alanna had been taught by Maude and Thom, the picture continued to grow.

A shadowed figure took over most of her vision, leaving her almost in complete darkness except for a few flames that burned around it. The figure chuckled cruelly and triumphantly and red stained the blackness until it deformed into a cloud of black smoke, swirling around until it found another form to take. The shadow figure now stood locked in battle with a powerful beast and a long, low howl echoed in Alanna's ears...

Maude let go of Alanna's arm and the picture disappeared. The flames lessened back to the small fire it had been before and Maude leaned back as Thom helped her into a chair. Alanna turned to her and saw an old, tired looking woman.

"I have seen many things I do not understand over the years, but never have I seen any such thing as what I Saw just a moment ago..." Maude trailed off, her eyes confused and distant.

"What did you See?" Thom wondered curiously, eyes wide at what had just occurred.

"...All I know for certain is that you have a very difficult road to follow." Maude looked Alanna straight in the eye as she spoke and then sighed a second time. "You have my blessing to go to Corus with Coram."

Alanna's heart lifted after hearing those words. She would have gone to Corus with or without Maude's blessing, but having it made her feel much better then not having it.

"Thank you, Maude." Alanna murmured, kneeling in front of Maude's chair.

"Just remember one thing, girl. You've a Gift for healing, Gods only know why, and the Gods punish those who do not use the Gift's they've been given. Use your Gift, Alanna. Heal. Heal all you can or you'll pay for it. The Gods mean for their Gift's to be used." Maude warned her.

Alanna bowed her head and kissed Maude's knuckles to show her respect and then she stood, coming face-to-face with Thom. The older boy looked worried and awkward standing there.

"I guess this is goodbye then. You'll be gone for eight years, probably more..." Thom looked at his feet and then glanced back up at Alanna's face.

"You're still my big brother an' I promise I'll write... Once I learn how." Alanna blushed lightly as she admitted one of her weaknesses.

"You'd better. And don't let anyone push you around." Thom said, pulling Alanna into a tight hug. He then held her at arms length and looked her in the eyes. "Good luck, Alanna. There are lots of tests ahead of you."

"I'll pass the tests." Alanna promised and hugged him once again. "Goodbye, both of you. I'll see you again one day, I promise."

"We'll be waiting." Maude smiled gently and stood as Thom and her walked with Alanna to the door.

They stood there and watched as Alanna swung herself up onto Spirit's bare back. Alanna looked back at them for a moment, offered a shy wave, and then gently nudged Spirit to start walking.

Thom and Maude watched her ride off into the rain until she disappeared into the dark. Maude lingered a bit longer after that, hoping that Alanna would heed her warning...

"Coram!" Alanna yelled as she burst through the door of the blacksmith's shop. The fire was roaring in the hearth and Coram was working with the sword she had seen earlier and another of his hammers. "Coram!" She yelled again, making the man look up, startled.

"Lass? What are ye doin' here so late?" He wanted to know, quickly placing his work aside. He knew Alanna wasn't foolish, she would never come to him at such an hour unless it was important.

"Take me to Corus with you!" Alanna blurted out, pulling back the hood of her cloak to reveal her short, mop of hair.

"By the Black God, what did ye do t' yer hair?!" Coram exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. With her hair cropped short and Thom's old clothes, Alanna looked very much like a boy. Had Coram not known different, he would have assumed...

"You said girls can't be Knights. Fine. From now on I'm Alan of Tortall." Alanna nodded confidently as Coram's jaw dropped as he finally understood what was happening. Silence fell for a moment and then Coram managed to find his voice.

"Have ye gone mad?" He bellowed, his eyes bulging out of his head.

"Coram, please! Maude agrees with me! She thinks I'm doin' th' right thing!" Alanna informed him. If she was going to convince him to take her along, then she couldn't take no for an answer.

"That witch would agree with ye!" Coram snorted.

"Coram, you know it's my dream t' be a Knight." Alanna lowered her voice to a calmer note and looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

"I don't care if ye want t' be a dancin' bear!" Coram said, taking a swallow from a nearby tankard. "Ye're a girl!"

"Who's t' know?" Alanna demanded. "I can shoot, I can use a dagger, I can use a sword, even you said yourself no grown cove can skin a rabbit faster'n me! Please! I can be a Knight, you just have t' give me th' chance!"

Coram sighed and looked at Alanna's pleading eyes. "Lass, 'tis a noble thought, a warrior's thought, but it'll never work. If ye're not caught when ye bathe, ye'll be turnin' into a woman soon..."

"I can hide all that." Alanna insisted. "With your help."

Coram didn't respond. He rubbed his face with one hand and took another swig from his tankard with the other. He glanced at the sword, which still had very fine details in need of finishing before his journey to Corus at dawn.

Coram knew from seeing it with his own eyes that Alanna knew her way about a sword and he had taught her how to use a bow after he had found her hunting and tracking with nothing but a small kitchen knife for a dagger. She had excelled with everything he taught her and he knew she would excel at the palace, under the teachings of the martial arts instructors. She was quick, she rarely tired, and she had a feel for the fighting arts that could never be taught by any teacher. But she also knew nothing of reading, writing, or doing figures, and Coram wasn't sure if she would be able to pick those things up as quickly as the physical training...

"You don't have t' decide now, just think 'bout it." Alanna asked him. "Sleep on it. If you feel th' same in th' mornin' I'll leave an' you'll never hear it from me again."

"Fine." He finally huffed. "Fine. But just for th' night!"

Alanna grinned, but kept silent and went over to a corner of Coram's workshop where she would be out of the way. She took off her cloak and sword and placed them near the wall before she started setting up a small space for her to sleep in for the night.

Coram turned back to his unfinished project, muttering about stubborn females and how he must be a cracknob for even agreeing to think about helping with such a crazy scheme. Alanna just smiled and tiptoed out of the room. She went into the part of Coram's house that he actually used as a home and found the kitchen, thinking quickly as she pulled out a pot...

By the time Coram was finished with his work, the night was half-over and Alanna had a meal of meat and vegetable soup with bread and cheese on the side waiting for him on the kitchen table.

The old soldier scowled at the girl and snatched up his spoon, shoving a large piece of meat and several vegetables from the soup into his mouth along with some broth. After a couple more spoonfuls and a bite of the bread and cheese, Coram noticed the full tankard that sat on the table in front of his plate. He picked it up and took a long drink from it, but as he swallowed the liquid, feeling it burn his throat on the way down, he peered into the tankard at the drink.

"Brandy?" He muttered, confused, but one look at Alanna's innocent face told him all he needed to know.

He grumbled something incoherently, but took another swig from his tankard and continued eating until the plate was empty and his stomach was full. Alanna took the plate and started washing the dishes, Coram simply rolled his eyes and made his way to his bedroom.

What he did not know was that Alanna had found his bottles of brandy and other drinks and had taken the strongest one for his meal. She hoped he would be more open to hear reason if his joints were well oiled.

When Coram woke the next morning he had the worst hangover he had ever experienced and he groaned in pain as Alanna walked into his room at dawn.

"Don't walk so loud..." He begged. Alanna handed him a steaming mug.

"Drink. Maude taught me how t' make hangover cure months ago. It'll help." She told him.

Coram sat up and drank deeply from the steaming mug, gasping as the hot liquid burned his throat and warmed his stomach from the inside out. It soothed his headache almost instantly and he was already beginning to feel better as he swung his feet to the floor and rubbed his tender skull.

"I need a bath." He exhaled heavily as he stretched. Alanna responded by pointing to the bath already waiting in the corner. Coram glared at her from beneath his eyebrows. "Go ready th' horses!... I take it I'm t' call ye 'Alan' from now on?"

Alanna's entire face lit up in a way Coram had only seen once, maybe twice before, and she let out a whoop of joy before running out of the room to perform the task demanded of her.

They left Trebond about an hour before dawn when all the villagers were either asleep or just beginning their mornings. Clifton of Trebond would sleep until noon with his hangover and by then Alanna and Coram would already be half-way to the first way-house.

Four days later, after the pair had stopped for lunch at yet another way-house, the sun was high in the sky and Coram was paying the master of the house for their stay. Meanwhile, Alanna stood with the horses Spirit, who still had no saddle, and Whiskey, Coram's big Drum Horse that was all black except for his mane, tail, and socks, which were white.

Alanna was petting Spirit's nose when a breeze drifted by, coming from the trees further down the road. She looked at the opening the path left in the trees, curious, and shared a glance with Spirit. The horse gave a soft whicker and threw his head lightly in the direction of the road, encouraging her. She looked over her shoulder and saw that Coram was finishing up with the way-house master and would catch up quickly if she were take a peek a what lay ahead of them.

Nervously, Alanna started walking. The sound of Spirit's clopping hooves behind her gave her comfort as she journeyed onto the road once again and peered into the trees. Not too far ahead, she could see a break in the forest where the breeze was coming from and she could smell wild grass. The leaves on the trees around her rustled and the wind blew gently, almost invitingly.

Alanna smiled and took another step. Then another. And another. Suddenly she was sprinting through the shadows of the dark forest and she could feel the excitement boiling inside of her.

She stopped abruptly at the very edge of the shadowed ground, at the end of the forest. Her eyes were wide as she took in the land before her, the land she had only ever heard stories about from her father and mother.

Green grass stretched out before her with little patches of light purples, pinks, and blues marking where flowers and clovers grew in the giant field. The wind sent ripples through the long grass and brought the wonderful scent of wild grass and fresh air to Alanna as she hesitated at the edge of the forest.

Spirit snorted lightly and nudged her with his nose. Alanna looked at him nervous and maybe even a little afraid, but the young stallion stood beside her with a loyalty known by few and that gave her comfort.

"I'm not goin' back." She murmured determinedly to herself.

Slowly, she placed one bare foot outside of the forest, letting it lead her out of the dark, damp mountains and forests that had kept her prisoner for so long. She stepped into the sun, feeling it's warmth wash over her as she took a deep breath of the fresh air that danced across the plains of green grass.

A giggle bubbled up her throat and she slid to the ground, rolling onto her back and arching upwards as she felt the grass tickling her back and the warm sun on her face. She flipped over onto her elbows, closing her eyes as another breeze fluttered across her cheeks, and then she got up, running a few strides before twirling around.

"I can't believe it!" She grinned so widely that her cheeks hurt and her eyes shone. Her fingers ran through her short hair that she was still getting used to. "I'm free!" She laughed as Spirit neighed, galloping out to join her in the sun and circling her in excitement.

Alanna looked out towards the hills that stretched out before them and started running for the crest of the rise. Spirit caught up to her easily and she jumped, grabbing hold of his mane and hauling herself onto his back as he reached the top of the rise, revealing the capital city of Corus before them.

A rock sticking out of the ground like an overhang was beside the road leading to the great city and Spirit came to a stop on it, rearing with delight as the feeling of freedom came over both him and his mistress.

He dropped to all-four of his legs again and shook out his mane with an excited whinny as Alanna drank in the sight before her. The sparkling Olorun river divided the city into two parts and ships sailed in and out of it's docks while the people in the city bustled with life. There was a stream of people trickling into the city because it was Market Day - Alanna didn't know to much about it, but Coram had told her that she would have to stay close because it was easy to get lost in a Market Day crowd.

The moment was ruined when Coram's large hand cuffed her on the back of her head.

"Are ye tryin' t' make my hair go grey?" He demanded. "Ye can't go runnin' off on yer own anymore. This isn't Trebond, it's the capitol. There're thieves an' rusher's waitin' for a poor country _lad_ like ye t' come along for easy pickin'."

"I didn't go that far." Alanna grimaced as she rubbed the back of her head. "An' I'm not that stupid; t' let a rusher get th' best of me." She added as the pair started down the road towards the city.

"Ye'd be surprised t' see what rusher's can do here in th' city." Coram told her as they neared the farms that stood on the very edges of the city. "Stay close, lass, an' try not t' get lost."

Coram guided his horse through the crowds expertly and Alanna tried to keep Spirit close to him while still trying to see everything, too. Never before in her entire life had she seen so many different people gathered in one place!

She saw merchants, slaves, priests, nobles, seamen, sailors. Peddlers were shoving their goods under peoples noses, shouting at them to buy. Women with low-cut dresses stood in doorways, eying young men, as children ran underfoot trying to sneak their hands into pockets and purses.

Alanna suddenly felt a short moment when everything slowed around her. Across the way, under an arched doorway, were two Bazhir - desert people, both were men - and they were staring straight at her. Alanna waved shyly and the two dipped their heads, bowing to her. Confused and a little spooked, she turned away and focused on where she was going.

Alanna was lucky that Spirit felt compelled to stay close to Coram's gelding in the big crowd, otherwise they'd be lost in a second. The market place was so full of life and excitement as people from all over bustled about. Piles of brightly colored orange and yellow fruit caught Alanna's eyes along with the dazzling blue and green hangings and the ropes of sparkling gold and silver chain.

Coram missed nothing, though. "Keep an eye t' yer saddlebag." He called back to Alanna. "There are some here as would steal their own mother's teeth." He seemed to direct this comment to a younger looking man standing near Alanna.

The man was lean and when he smiled white teeth flashed with his grin. "Who, me?" He asked innocently.

Coram snorted and rolled his eyes, urging Whiskey forward, but Alanna could have sworn she saw a flash of laughter in his eyes, if only just for a moment. Alanna looked back at the man and he winked one bright hazel eye at her, right before disappearing into the crowd. Alanna smiled. Whether he really was a thief or not, he seemed nice.

They left the market place, taking the street 'Market Way' up a long, sloping hill. This led them to where rich merchants lived and past the villas of even richer nobles. The crossing of Market Way and Harmony Way marked the beginning of the Temple District. Here Market Way changed it's name to Palace Way. Coram straightened in his saddle. After his long years of soldiering, this was like coming home.

Alanna promised herself, in that moment, that she would do whatever it took to make Coram proud of her. To thank him for believing in her enough to risk everything for her.

On their ride through the district they saw countless temples, guarded by the priests and priestesses of that particular God or Goddess. The ground suddenly rose steeply and the Temple District ended. Above them, crowning the hill, was the royal palace.

Alanna looked at it and gasped. Ahead of her was the Palace Gate, carved with thousands of figures and trimmed with gold. Through this gate, king's, queen's and their heir's came down to the city on holy days and the people went through this gate to see their rulers on great Audience Days. The gate was as tall as the wall it pierced and the wall was lined with soldiers dressed in the royal blue and gold uniforms. Behind the wall were levels and levels of buildings and towers that led up to the palace itself. The area had it's own gardens, wells, stables, and barracks. Outside the wall on the other side of the palace, lay the royal forest.

All these things Alanna knew from her father's tales, but the reality took her breath away.

Coram led the way up to the courtyard beside the stables. Here servants awaited the arrival of guests, to show them to their rooms, to lead the arrival's servants and to take charge of the animals. One such servant approached them.

Coram dismounted and untied the package with the newly made sword from Whiskey's saddle. "I'm Coram Smythesson and I've come t' see His Grace, Duke Gareth."

The hostler bowed. "I'll be takin' th' horses, sir." He said, his voice thick with the accent of the city. "Timon!" He called.

A slender young man in royal livery hurried out from behind one of the buildings and came to stand before them. "Aye, Stefan?"

"One fer His Grace. I'll tend t' th' bags." Stefan nodded to the other man, Timon, and Alanna realized she would have to leave Spirit in the hands of the servant.

She slid off of Spirit's bare back and hugged him tight. "I'll come see you as soon as I can. Try not t' cause too much trouble." She whispered to him and Spirit nudged her affectionately.

Alanna pulled away and saw the hostler standing there, smiling slightly. She simply nodded, feeling as if her only friend were being taken away from her, and hurried to catch up with Coram, casting constant looks back at Spirit.

"Ye'll show His Grace th' proper respect." Coram ordered in his low rumble. "A wizard with a sword, he is, and a better leader ye'll never meet."

Alanna nodded again, feeling anxious. What if something went wrong? What if the Duke guessed? She looked up at Coram to find him sweating. She gritted her teeth and took a steady, calming breath.

She would see this through.

**AN:** R&amp;REVIEW, please! -Owl.


	5. The New Page

_**Chapter 4: The New Page**_

His Grace, Duke Gareth of Naxen was tall and thin with brown hair, peppered with the slightest traces of grey, that fell into his brown eyes. Though he was plain looking, which was actually quite comforting in Alanna's mind, there was still a commanding air about him.

"Coram Smythesson." The Duke smiled widely at his guest, rising from his seat behind his desk and coming around to shake Coram's hand fondly. "It's been a long time since the Battle of Joyous Forest."

Coram bowed, grinning. "I didn't think yer Grace would remember. That was twenty years ago."

"I don't forget it when a man saves my life. Welcome back to the palace. And thank you for accepting my request." The Duke smiled again when he noticed the package that Coram held proudly.

"One of my best pieces. I'm glad it's goin' t' ye." Coram handed the package over to the Duke, who placed it on his desk and unwrapped the paper protecting the blade.

"Nothing less then perfection." The Duke smiled brightly after inspecting the sword with the keen eyes of a great swordsman. "I knew I could count on your skills, Master Smythesson."

"Twas my pleasure, Yer Grace." Coram bowed again. It was then that the Duke turned to Alanna and raised a brow.

"Have you finally taken on an apprentice after all these years?" The Duke inquired of Coram, but his eyes remained fixed on Alanna's face, so Alanna met his gaze. She was surprised when he didn't respond. Most people would either stare at her eyes, entranced by the violet color, or claim she was demon-possessed or some such nonsense.

"No, Yer Grace." Coram shook his head and stiffly nudged Alanna forward by placing a hand on her shoulder blades. "This is Alan. He's asked me t' sponsor him."

The Duke's eyes widened slightly and looked at Coram and then back to Alanna. "Oh, I see." He murmured in understanding. "...Sit down, both of you." He finally said after a long pause. He swept around to sit behind his desk again and Alanna and Coram did as they were told.

The Duke pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill to write with and then looked up at the two seated before him. "You said his name is Alan, correct? And I assume his residence until today was Trebond?"

"The Trebond Orphanage, yes." Coram nodded in response. The Duke paused in his writing and glanced at Coram and then Alanna, before returning to the parchment in front of him and writing something down.

"I see. What are the limits of his education?" His Grace asked. Alanna wasn't sure why Coram and the Duke were speaking as if she weren't there, but, being an orphan, she had gotten used to those sorts of things and internally shrugged it off.

"He can read an' write a little, but that's it." Coram replied honestly. Maude had taught Alanna a little bit about reading and writing, but Alanna had no right to learn such things until she had a proper Master to teach her as his or her apprentice.

"Understandable, but it won't be easy making up those lessons." The Duke noted more to himself then anything else. "Has he ever been arrested or broken the law?"

"Not that I've ever heard, yer Grace."

"Well then, I believe that is all for the questioning... For now." The Duke placed the parchment aside and folded his hands on top of his desk neatly. "Now, I must be honest, it's not often we have a commoner with a notable sponsor come here for training. I've only had meetings such as these a handful of times and they all left before their first year was done. You're here, Alan of Tortall, to learn what it is to be a Knight and, perhaps someday, a nobleman of Tortall. It's not easy. And I won't lie to you, being a commoner, especially an orphan, will only make it harder. You must learn to defend the weak, to obey your overlord, to champion the cause of right."

The Duke paused and eyed her for a moment. Alanna's only reply was a sharp, purposeful nod.

"Until you are fourteen years of age, you will serve as a page." The Duke went on. "You will wait on the tables at evening meals and you will run errands for any lord or lady who asks you. Half your day will be spent learning the Fighting Arts. The other half will be spent with books, in the hope that we can teach you to think. As for your education, until you've caught up with the other pages' in your book lessons, you will be assigned a tutor."

Alanna felt a quiet sigh of relief exit her lungs through her nose. At least His Grace is merciful enough to spare her the embarrassment of having to learn such things on her own.

"If your masters think you are ready, you will be made a squire when you are fourteen. Perhaps a Knight will choose you as his body squire. If so, you'll tend to your Knight Master's belongings, run his errands, and protect his interests. Your other lessons will continue - but they'll be harder, of course." The Duke informed her. "When you are eighteen, you will undergo the Ordeal of Knighthood. If you survive, you will be made a Knight of Tortall. Not everyone survives." The Duke held up his left hand to reveal a missing finger. "I lost this in the Chamber of the Ordeal." He sighed. "Don't worry about the Ordeal now. You have eight years to think about it. For the present, you will live in the pages' wing. Coram will room with you, but I hope he'll be able to serve the palace guard in his free time?"

Coram nodded and grinned. "I'd like that, yer Grace."

Duke Gareth smiled warmly. "Excellent. We can always use a man with your abilities." He turned back to Alanna again. "One of the older pages' will sponsor you and show you how things are done. You'll be in his charge until you are familiar with the palace and your duties. If you are obedient and work hard, you won't see me often. Misbehave and you'll learn just how harsh I can be. When you prove yourself worthy you will be granted free time to go into the city. And make no mistake, you'll earn every privilege you get three times over. You are here to learn chivalry, not to have a good time. -Timon." Alanna followed the Duke's gaze and realized the servingman had been in the room all along. "Take them to their room. Make sure the boy is properly clothed. Also, a guardsman's uniform for Master Smythesson." The Duke measured Alanna with his eyes. "I expect you to begin serving at the tables in five days. You'll wait on me. Any questions?"

"N-no, yer Lordship." Alanna cursed herself for stuttering as she bowed, however slight it might have been, and prayed the she had used a proper title for the Duke. Or, at least, had not used a title that would offend him.

"A Duke is called 'Your Grace'." The Duke smiled kindly and held his right hand out to her. "It is a hard life, but you'll get used to it."

Alanna kissed his hand, timidly. She liked the Duke. She knew that much. "Yes, Yer Grace."

"But, there is one last thing; Pages' are not permitted swords until their masters deem them ready." The Duke's eyes fell on the sword handle at Alanna's right shoulder, making her nervous.

"Yer Grace, if I may, it's th' last thing th' boy has of his family." Coram intervened quietly. Alanna looked up at him, surprised. Coram usually didn't mention Alanna's past. But, then again, neither did Alanna.

The Duke looked at Coram and then back at Alanna. She assumed there must have been some of the fear she felt about losing her sword showing through her eyes because the Duke softened and nodded. "Very well, you may keep it in your room. But don't let me catch you with it again until you've had proper training."

Alanna nodded frantically and the two men bowed as they all left the Duke's office.

The pages' wing stretched along the North-East side of the palace, standing near the stables, practice courts and yards behind the palace. Here, Timon showed them the room where they would stay during Alanna's time as a page. Someone had already placed their baggage inside the door. The room was fairly large, at least, when compared to the tiny nursery Alanna had shared with the other orphan children back in Trebond. It had a small bed, a hearth, a table with two chairs, and a separate room for the privy with a changing screen and a tub for bathing. Timon also promised a second bed would be set up for Coram in the main room.

Their next stop was with the palace tailors. Realizing they would have to measure her, Alanna felt sick. Images of being forced to strip, of being caught and sent back to Trebond in disgrace whirled in her mind.

Instead a scowling old man whipped a knotted cord around her shoulders and hips, calling out the number of knots it took to encircle Alanna to his nervous apprentice. Then he laid the cord along her right arm and her right leg. He sent his apprentice scurrying into a storeroom while he measured Coram in the same rapid style.

The apprentice returned with an armful of clothes and was instantly sent back for boots and shoes. The grumpy old tailor shook out the tunic of the pages' uniform and held it up to Alanna.

Coram struggled to fight off a grin. "Isn't it a wee bit big?"

The tailor glared at the servingman. "Boys grow." The tailor barked, thrusting the pile of clothes into Alanna's unsuspecting arms. "It's their natures." He turned his scowl on Alanna, then. "You rip 'em, you mend 'em. Don't let me see you for at least three months." He told her.

Alanna followed Coram and Timon out, letting out a tiny sigh of relief. Her secret was safe, for now.

Timon took them to the huge kitchens for a simple lunch and then spent the rest of the afternoon showing them the palace. Alanna had a bit of trouble keeping up with the servant. The palace was large, very large. It could have held several Trebond's within it's walls. But she didn't mind the idea of a new place to explore. There were so many rooms, it was just like the twists and turns and caves and trees of the forests, at least, they were in Alanna's mind. She knew, with time, she would know the palace like the back of her hand, just like she knew the forests of Trebond.

Eventually, Timon finished his tour and had to return to his work, so he led Coram and Alanna back to their room where they started to unpack. They put away their things quickly - Alanna only had her sword and ocarina to put away, after all - as the sun began to set and Coram changed into clean clothes, Alanna slowly laid out her page's uniform. She noticed her hands were shaking a little.

"Alan?" Coram came out of the changing room, ready for supper with the other palace guards. "Well, las -Lad." He corrected himself quickly, his dark eyes were kind. "How shall we work this? Th' boys are changin' for dinner."

"You go on ahead." She tried to smile, but it was hard to make her voice sound relaxed. "I'll be fine."

"Ye're sure?" Coram raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Of course." She replied, stoutly. "Would I've said so if I wasn't?"

"Yes." Was his calm reply.

Alanna sighed and rubbed her forehead, wishing he didn't know her so well. "I'll be all right, Coram. Really. Go on."

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Good luck - Alan."

"Thanks." She said, watching him go. After he left, she locked the door and reached for her shirt.

When she was fully dressed, Alanna stared at her reflection in the mirror. She had never looked so fine. The full-sleeve shirt and hose were crisp, clean white against the royal-blue-trimmed-with-gold cloth of the tunic. A slim, leather belt wrapped around her hips and for the very first time, sturdy brown boots covered her usually bare feet. True, the clothes were a little large, but she was too dazzled by the royal colors to care.

She smiled at her reflection as her eyes watered just the slightest bit.

"I hope you're watchin', Papa. Watch me. I'll make you and Mama proud, I promise." She whispered, picking up her father's sword and gripping it tightly in her hands.

She, sadly, put it away in the trunk that had been left for storage at the foot of her bed, reluctantly leaving it there as she took a deep breath to prepare herself. With one last look in the mirror, the royal uniform gave her the courage to open the door and step out into the hall. She couldn't have done it in her old, battered clothes - not without her father's sword.

Several boys saw her the moment she stepped out and hurried to spread the word: There's a new boy in the palace! Suddenly, the pages' wing was very quiet. Everyone came to inspect the new comer.

Someone behind Alanna grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, forcing her to face him. She looked up a bit to see the face of a tall, gangling boy of nearly fourteen looking her over with a sneer on his thick mouth. He had dull, cold blue eyes and sandy-blonde hair that flopped over his forehead.

"I wonder what this is." His crooked teeth made him spit his 'S's and Alanna calmly wiped away some saliva from her cheek. "Probably some back-country boy who _thinks_ he's a noble."

"Leave him alone, Ralon." One of the younger looking boys', closer to Alanna's age, called out in her defense. "He didn't say anything to you."

"He doesn't have to!" Ralon snapped back. "I bet he's some farmer's son, trying to pass as one of us!" He raised his voice so his comment would reach the ears of everyone in the hall.

Alanna blushed the lightest shades of pink because... He wasn't exactly wrong. She didn't believe herself a noble, but her father had tended goats in times of peace...

"I was told pages' were s'posed t' learn manners." Alanna murmured, her voice low and guarded. "Whoever told me that must've been confused."

The boy grabbed her shirt and lifted her off the floor. "I knew it!" He hissed, having heard her lower-class accent. "You'll do what you're told!" He snapped, throwing her against a wall and still keeping her feet above the ground. "You're no page! You're nothing but lower-city garbage, so if I say you're a whore's son, you say 'Yes, Lord Ralon'." He spat.

Alanna snarled her fury at that, obviously startling the older boy with her dangerous, almost inhuman look and snarl. "I'd sooner kiss a mule's ass! Is that what you've been doin'? Kissin' asses? Or bein' kissed?"

Ralon screeched his anger and drew his fist back, thrusting it forward, straight at Alanna's face. She ducked, letting his hand slam against the stone wall - she heard some satisfying cracks that made her smile internally - and then rammed into his stomach, tackling him to the floor.

Ralon yelped and they rolled over each other until Alanna was on top, gripping his shirt tightly in her fist while her free hand was pulled back, ready to strike -!

"That's enough!" A clear, forceful voice rang throughout the hall. It made Alanna freeze in place, holding Ralon down with her fist ready to break his nose at any second. Her heart pounded in her chest and her head snapped around to look up at the owner of the voice.

The boy had black hair and sapphire blue eyes. He stood tall and proud, reminding Alanna of a lion, and four other boys stood about him, but it was clear he was at the head of things. He was handsome, there was no doubt there, and Alanna's nose twitched as she caught his scent.

"What goes on here?" The boy asked calmly, but Alanna caught the message underneath his words.

She released Ralon and got up, backing away as the older boy got to his feet. She eyed Ralon for a moment to make sure he wouldn't attack her again and then fixed her eyes on the boy, but he wasn't looking at her.

Ralon was the first to speak. "Highness, this boy was acting as if he owned the palace!" He whined. "King of the castle, he was, and he insulted me like no gentleman insults another -"

"I don't think I spoke to you, Ralon of Malven." The boy called 'Highness' said coolly. His bright blue eyes fixated on Ralon's. "Unless I'm mistaken, I believe I told you not to talk to me at all."

"But, Highness, he -"

"Shut up, Ralon." Instructed one of the boy's friends. This one was big. He had tightly curled, brown hair and coal-black eyes. "You've got your orders."

Ralon backed down, red with fury, but didn't dare say anything. The boy who seemed to be running things looked about the hall and nodded to the boy who had called out in Alanna's defense at the beginning of the fight.

"Douglass." The dark-haired boy beckoned him forward. "What happened?"

The young page was stocky and his blonde hair was still wet from washing. "It was Ralon, Jon." He spoke to the older, leaderly boy with ease. "The new boy was just standing there and then Ralon started on him." He went on from there, describing everything that had happened up until the point when the dark-haired boy known as 'Highness' stepped in. "...And that's when you came, Jon." The boy, Douglass, finished.

During his story, Ralon had turned an even darker shade of red and Alanna had hung her head in shame. Ralon had acted wrongly, but she hadn't acted much better. After Ralon had called her mother a whore, she just snapped, and she felt ashamed for not being able to keep her temper in check.

'Highness' had been silent through the entire retelling of the event and then took a moment to decide what would happen next. He turned to Ralon. "I'll speak with you later, Ralon." The dark-haired boy instructed. "In my room, before lights-out." Ralon hesitated, so he continued in a soft, icy voice. "You've been dismissed, Malven."

Ralon hurled himself out of the hallway, still bright red with anger, and the boys watched him go before turning their attention to Alanna. She began to study the floor, unsure of what to do. She had never had so many people looking at her before and she knew more then just Ralon might take offense to her being an orphan.

"You have good taste in enemies, even if you do make them your first day here." His Highness said. "Let's have a look at you, Fire-Hair."

Slowly, Alanna looked up into the face of her prince. She had known it after first hearing his voice. She wasn't sure how, but she knew that this boy was a part of the royal family.

He was about three, or four, years older then her. His nose was straight and slightly hooked. His face was stern, but a smile touched his lips and a glimmer of fun slipped from his eyes. His eyebrows lifted a considerable amount when their gazes locked, but Alanna wasn't surprised. She knew her eyes were startling to most people.

"This is Prince Jonathan, lad." The large boy who had silenced Ralon informed her in a whisper.

Alanna bowed as low as she could without falling over - It wasn't everyday you meet a member of the royal family. "Yer Royal Highness." She tried really hard to keep her rough accent out of her words. "I'm sorry 'bout th' misunderstandin'..." She kept her voice low, hoping no one would notice her speech.

"You didn't misunderstand." The Prince assured her. "Ralon is no gentleman. What's your name?" Alanna clenched her fists and met the Prince stare-for-stare.

"Alan of Tortall." She answered simply, plainly. The hall became quiet for a moment. Alanna didn't dare look into anyone else's eyes, for fear of finding more anger or even pity.

The Prince returned her gaze, his eyes were curious at first and then understanding after she answered his question, then they were thoughtful. Now they were impossible for her to read, guarded, and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Very well then." He finally said with a nod. Alanna wasn't sure what happened but she saw a ghost of a smile played across his lips. "Have you met the others?"

With royal permission given, the other boys all rushed forward trying to introduce themselves all at once. The very large, friendly boy who had given her Jonathan's name was Raoul of Goldenlake. The other large young man with chestnut hair and eyes was Gareth - Gary - of Naxen, the Duke's son. The slim, dark boy next to him was Alexander of Tirragen. And Raoul's little, blonde shadow was Francis of Nond. There were ten others, but these four - and the Prince - were the leaders.

Jonathan finally called over everyone to draw their attention once again. "Now that we've met our newest member, who will sponsor him?"

Several of the older boys raised their hands. Jonathan nodded. "Your sponsor keeps you from getting too lost." He explained to Alanna. "I think Gary had better take you in hand."

The big youth nodded at Alanna, his eyes warm and friendly. "A pleasure." Alanna bowed politely in response.

A bell rang. "We'd better go." Jonathan announced. "Alan, stay close to Gary and listen to what he tells you. Oh, and welcome to the palace." The prince smiled.

**AN:** R&amp;REVIEW, please! -Owl.


	6. Book Lessons

_**Chapter 5: Book Lessons**_

Alanna awoke the next morning just before dawn as she always did. Coram followed her into the land of the conscious shortly - and sleepily - when he got up to prepare for his new work as a palace guardsman.

Her first evening had not been terrible, but part of her expected that because all she had done was pass dishes from the kitchen maids to the page's who were serving at the tables. After that Gary had led her to the Mess Hall, where the pages', squires', guardsmen, and Knights - when they didn't eat with the other nobles' in the King's Hall - took their meals.

Over supper, Gary had explained the pages' schedule to her, so she would be prepared to wake up early the next morning - Alanna had decided it wasn't necessary for her to inform him that anyone below the rank of a very rich merchant got up at dawn to begin work or that Alanna herself got up before dawn so she could practice one of three sword dances she knew or sketch or perform any other activity that caught her interest.

Gary informed her that the pages' began their days at the sixth bell. They had one hour to dress and have breakfast and then, at the seventh bell, all the pages' were expected at their first lesson of the day; Reading and writing for one hour. The next hour was spent with a Mathematics teacher and then an hour with the Deportment teacher, and finally one hour with the teacher of History and Philosophy to finish their book lessons for the day.

Then they would be given one hour for lunch before they were sent out to the practice courts for training in the Fighting Arts.

Alanna wondered what she would do until Gary came to show her about and sighed. She had promised the Duke that she would not use her sword until her Masters' granted permission and she had no paper or charcoal to sketch with.

Eventually she decided to clean. While the room she and Coram had been granted was cared for and quite extravagant in Alanna's own opinion, it still needed a dusting and some freshening up. She started by finding a broom in the changing room, which must have been left there when the maids and servants finished cleaning the room after it's last occupant moved out.

She swept, she found a rag and cleaned the windows and opened them to let some fresh air into the room, she cleaned out the small hearth and made both Coram's bed and her own. After that she moved to the changing room and arranged things to benefit them better. The changing-screen she moved to the corner, creating a good space for her to change and hide in, should someone walk in unannounced. The tub was left at the center of the room with a small table with several different items laid out on it placed next to tub. And the privy was pushed to the far side of the room.

Once Alanna was satisfied with her work, she noticed that the sun had appeared out on the horizon, giving off the wonderful colors of a beautiful dawn. She smiled at the sight and breathed in the fresh air from her spot, looking out the open window. When she opened her eyes she nodded happily and set back to work.

She changed into her pages' uniform and washed her face and hands. She brushed her hair - an easier feat now that it was so short - and washed her teeth. Finally she laced up the sturdy, leather shoes that matched her uniform and deemed herself ready.

And it was just as well, because time had gotten away from her and a few knocks against the wood of her door made her look up.

"Hey, Alan, you awake yet? I hope you are because I warned you about what we do to new kids' last night!" Gary's disgustingly cheerful for that early in the morning voice called from the other side of the door.

Just because Alanna got up early, didn't mean she enjoyed it. Besides, the idea of getting an ice-cold bucket of water dumped on her was her only motivation to get up at her usual time instead of sleeping in like the rest of the pages' - and possibly later on accident.

Alanna quickly went to the door and opened it before Gary could go find a bucket and his eyes widened slightly, before settling back into his happy, mischievous self.

"Oh, so you did take my advice after all." He grinned. "Well, it's about time someone around here did!" He exclaimed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in a friendly manner and leading her down the hall. She barely had enough time to shut her door.

In the Mess Hall, Gary piled food onto her plate and handed it to her, offering his advice once again. "Eat. You'll need your strength."

Alanna followed his instructions and ate until the bell chimed once again, bringing all of the pages' to their feet and filing out of the Mess Hall. However, the Duke's personal manservant was waiting outside the door for Alanna and as soon as she came out, Timon called her over.

"His Grace sent me t' introduce you t' your tutor." He informed her. She winced just a bit and looked up at Gary out of the corner of her eye. He looked confused for a moment, but then realization lit across his face and he nodded.

"Alright then. I'll see you at lunch, Alan." Gary clapped her on the shoulder, giving her a friendly, truthful smile that made her relax a bit. He wasn't going to pick on her for not being educated.

Gary left with the other pages' and Timon led Alanna down the same hallway, a little ways behind the others - probably to spare her pride. They passed the room that all of the pages' had filed into, and Alanna couldn't help the relieved feeling that filled her chest when she saw that the door was closed.

Eventually they came to a door just a little further down the hall and Timon opened the door for her, gesturing for her to go in first. She entered the room and found a very comfortable looking area. There were three couches against the side walls and the back wall and rugs spread out on the floor and several chairs of various sizes scattered about the room. At the front was a desk covered in papers and books and against the side wall next to it - straight across from the door - was a bookshelf filled with books. Maps covered the walls as well and the front of the room - the wall behind the desk - was covered in a huge piece of parchment with a small shelf that had charcoal on it.

But there was no one in the room besides her and Timon. The servingman sighed and took a seat, motioning for her to do the same.

"Might as well make yourself comfortable, lad. He'll be here soon enough." Timon told her and she tilted her head at him slightly in curiosity, but took a seat as he said anyways.

They stayed there and talked for a while, but eventually the door opened and a man came in. This man was not a priest. Gary had told her that all of the 'Thinking Arts' were taught mostly by Mithran Priests, scholarly men in orange robes who were quick to catch a wandering or sleeping eye and even quicker to discipline.

This man, however, was short and plump. He had shaggy brown hair that was streaked with grey and a long straggly beard. His hose was bagged at the knee and his tunic was as rumpled as if he slept in it. He had a tiny, delicate nose, a smiling mouth and large, green-brown eyes.

Alanna met his gaze and smiled in spite of herself. He was the oddest mixture of disarray and good nature she had ever seen and she liked him on sight. His name; Sir Myles of Olau.

"Hello." He greeted her cheerfully. "You must be Alan. His Grace said you would be in need of some tutoring?" He held his hand out to her and Alanna rose, taking his offered hand.

"Yes, sir." She nodded determinedly.

"Ah, good lad! I can tell you'll enjoy learning. But I think it's only fair to warn you, your life here is going to be difficult. Some nobles do not take kindly to young boys from lower class families." Myles told her grimly. Alanna shrugged.

"I know. But I'm not gonna let it keep me from bein' a Knight." She replied firmly. Myles actually grinned.

"Well, then, why don't we begin?"

After a short exchange, Timon left them to their own devices and Alanna's tutoring began. Myles tested her on her reading and writing abilities to see where they would begin with those lessons the next day, then he taught her the basics of Mathematics which was awfully difficult for her, but Alanna was far too stubborn to give up and pushed through it anyways. After that they began Deportment, which Alanna learned was just a fancy name for manners and that her knowledge of etiquette was very much lacking because, for nobles, apparently 'please' and 'thank you' were not enough.

After all three of these classes Alanna's mind was exhausted and Myles chuckled, allowing her a ten minute break. Once her break ended, the other pages' started filing into the room and Alanna realized that it was the one class that she didn't need to catch up to the other boys in; History and Philosophy.

Gary, Raoul, Alex, Francis, and the Prince all gave her friendly greetings once they saw her and took seats on the couches and chairs near her's. Once they were all settled, Myles turned to the class and looked them over, nodding his approval.

"Good morning to you all, I trust our Code of Chivalry has your young minds working as hard as ever." Myles addressed the whole class, some of them snickered, several groaned at his words.

"Sir Myles, are you going to start on the Code again?" Prince Jonathan asked. "You know we never agree that it asks too much of us."

"No, I'm not going to 'start on' the Code today." Myles sighed, pulling out a book. "For one thing, you boys won't agree with me until the glamour of being Knights and nobles has worn off and you can see the tolls our way of life has taken on you. For another, Duke Gareth has informed me that we are somewhat deficient in our coverage of the Bazhir Wars and that he hopes to find us more knowledgeable when he next stops to visit."

"Sir?" One of the boys asked.

Myles looked at Alanna with a twinkle in his eyes. "I often forget - not everyone is a scholar like me and I tend to use obscure language. Therefore, to translate, Duke Gareth wants me to go over the Bazhir Wars because all of your knowledge on them is highly lacking."

Many boys grumbled at this, others looked sheepish, but as far as Alanna was concerned, Myles was a wonderful and fun teacher. She was glad to have him as her tutor.

"So, Alan, what did you think of Sir Myles?" Gary asked her once they were all leaving the class room together to go get lunch. "I have to say, I'm envious you get him as a tutor! Meanwhile, the rest of us are stuck with the stuffy priests!"

Alanna smiled a bit at this. They weren't picking on her for being uneducated and they weren't acting as if her being an orphan wasn't true, it wasn't what she had expected at all.

"Oh, I liked him a lot. He just seems..." Alanna struggled to find the right word.

"Odd. The word you're looking for is 'odd'." Alex supplied for her with a smile.

"You just don't like Philosophy! But better odd then stuffy, that's what I say!" Gary proclaimed. "Come on! We're falling behind! At this rate nothing good will be left for us at lunch!"

The three young pages' rushed to catch up with the others, smiling and joking along the way. But, in the back of her mind, Alanna had a lot to think about. Life at the palace wasn't quite what she expected and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing... Or perhaps even a little bit of both.

**AN:** Hey guys! Here's a new chapter for all y'all. Hope you're enjoying it, let me know by dropping a Review! -Owl.


	7. The Fighting Arts

_**Chapter 6: The Fighting Arts**_

Lunch was uneventful, but enjoyable. Prince Jonathan and his circle welcomed Alanna at their table and they joked all through their meal. Afterwards, Gary finally led Alanna outside to the practice courts and exercise yards behind the palace. Here was the center of training for Knighthood. Alanna would spend her afternoons and part of her evenings here, going inside only when the weather forced them to - and sometimes not even then. Here she would learn jousting, fighting with weapons, archery, how to ride horses both traditionally and trick riding, horse-back archery, and much more. She would have to learn to fall, roll, and tumble. She would get dirty, tear muscles, bruise herself, break bones, but if she withstood it all, if she was strong enough, she would one day carry a Knight's shield with pride.

Training was endless. Even after earning a Shield and being dubbed a Knight, because getting out of shape was to ask for death by the hand of a stranger on a lonely road. Having grown up in Trebond - a mountain village awfully close to the border - Alanna knew just how important the Fighting Arts were. Trebond alone fought off waves of bandits every year and Alanna had faced one herself when he had gotten too close to the orphanage.

She could already use a bow and a dagger. She could also wield her father's sword, but she was banned from using it for the time being. She was a skilled tracker - having been taught by her father - and her riding was strong, especially when she had Spirit. But she knew that she had much to learn yet and the teachers proved her right.

Her afternoon began with an hour of warm ups. They did sit-ups, push-ups, jumps, and twisting exercises to limber them up so they could turn and weave quickly.

The next hour was spent in a suit of padded armor as she was given her first lesson with a staff. Before any of the master's allowed her to use a sword, she had to show some mastery of staff fighting. Alanna was lucky, though; the padding kept her from breaking any bones that first afternoon and she was a natural with a sword, so she was nearly just as good with a staff. As it was, she learned how to block an attack aimed at her side and an attack that came from above and she managed to escape the lesson with less bruises then some of the other boys.

Next, she spent an hour learning the most basic movement in hand fighting - The fall. She fell, over and over, trying to slap the ground just as the teacher had shown her and trying to take her weight in all of the right places, but created new bruises every time she missed or forgot.

The next hour saw her with a shield on her bruised left arm, trying to defend herself against a boy with a stout, wooden stick. The purpose of the exercise was to teach them how to use a shield as a defense. Having never even picked up a shield, it was definitely the hardest part of Alanna's training. Her opponent would land a good smack with the stick every time she left part of herself open to attack, leaving her with more bruises then any of the other lessons. Luckily, Alanna was able to return the favor to the boy when they traded off and she had the stick. The boy was able to block most of her attacks because he had obviously worked with a shield before - he had also told her so, trying to encourage her to keep trying, which Alanna appreciated - but she managed a good strike every now and then that she knew he would be feeling for a few days to come. By the end, Alanna had become better acquainted with another one of the boys. His name was Sacherell of Wellam.

Her next hour of lessons went a little better though. Archery came much easier to her and she had plenty of practice from trying to feed the orphanage during the winters. It was even easier when she was handed an actual bow that was balanced and not made out of a long stick someone found on the forest floor and widdled two holes in for the string. She hit the center of the target perfectly once and earned a praise from the archery Master. Raoul, who was placed in front of the target beside her's, clapped her on the back and congratulated her on 'getting a praise out of the old cretin'.

After that, her good mood lessened, because they spent an hour learning the basics of wrestling. They partnered up to try the techniques the Wrestling Master had just taught them and Alanna found that she was fairly small compared to the rest of the boys, so she couldn't manage to pin her partner even once.

Finally, for their last hour of training for the day, they went out to the stables. Alanna followed the other boys to the stables, but she realized something strange was happening when two of the boy's darted ahead, racing for the stables. A thought occurred to her and she shrugged, letting them waste their energy. She didn't even care when she realized most of the older pages who had been there for at least a year, were snickering and laughing at her under their breaths.

Alanna just smiled and kept walking. Once they reached the stables, the older boys went to the stalls in the back - where they kept the horses that had been chosen by a page already. The younger pages were already saddling the best of the horses that were left for the pages and Francis gave a small, sympathetic smile in Alanna's direction. She shocked them all when she kept walking to the back, looking at all the horses until she stopped in front of a stall that had been empty the last time any of them had been there.

Spirit trotted up to the stall door and nudged Alanna's cheek with his nose, making her smile. She was just about the to reach down and open the stall when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find the hostler she'd met the day before.

"Master Smythesson asked t' borrow some tack fer yer beast." The hostler, Stefan, if she remembered correctly, told her, motioning to the saddle and bridal that were draped over one of the walls of Spirit's stall.

"Thank you." Alanna said simply and bowed politely. The hostler blushed a little and hurried away, obviously uncomfortable around so many nobles.

Several of the pages' stared, mouths agape with shock, and Raoul and Gary outright laughed as Alex and Francis tried to cover their snickers. Prince Jonathan gave a curious look, but said nothing. Alanna didn't notice them, she was too busy trying to get Spirit to stand still so she could put the bridal on.

"I know you don't like th' bit, but if you don't wear it I'll get in trouble with th' ridin' Master." Alanna told him as she started to get frustrated with him. Spirit's ears dropped back with disdain and he glared at her. Alanna felt bad for making him wear the bridal because she knew he hated the metal pieces that went in his mouth. She looked down at the bridal and then around the stall, hoping for an answer to the problem, and she smiled when her eyes fell on a lead rein.

For the entire lesson, Alanna rode Spirit with a saddle and the lead rein - which was basically a bridal without a bit - and the riding Master didn't even notice. Spirit was happy and it was Alanna's best class. She performed as good as some of the oldest page's and the riding Master - who was known as the kindest of the fighting arts masters - praised her generously. Her first lesson was in sitting properly, trotting the horse in a circle, bringing him to a gallop, galloping without falling off and halting the horse precisely in front of the master.

By the time they were done, Alanna felt she had done well, at least, compared to how she did with her book lessons - which were, by far, the hardest part of her day.

The pages' all returned to the stables together, hung up their tack and brushed down their horses before leaving. Alanna said goodbye to Spirit and told him that she would be back the next afternoon, if not earlier, and then rushed to catch up with her friends. She found Gary waiting for her outside the stable doors.

"And here we all thought you were stupid! You're a sneaky one, you are!" He grinned cheekily, draping an arm over her shoulders in a friendly way and leading her to the palace. "Honestly, I'm glad. They all looked like fishes out of water when you started saddling that amazing stallion! Did your sponsor give it to you or something?"

"No." Alanna shook her head, smiling slightly. "Spirit an' me have been together since I was just five years old."

"Hm. Well, he's the best horse I've ever seen." Gary confirmed. "Anyways, it's time to wash up. First we take bathes, then we serve at the tables, and then we get dinner."

"Should I pass plates like I did last night?" She asked and Gary nodded.

"You don't need to start serving for another four nights, use that to your advantage." He recommended. Alanna laughed and followed him back to the pages' wing.

Alanna was shocked to discover that pages' bathed every night after their day of training and that they were punished if they weren't clean while serving at the tables. She was even more shocked to discover that the water in their tubs was warm. She was also confused to find a thick liquid that was called soap in one of the bottles on the table beside her tub. Coram explained to her - after she was finished with her bath and dressed in a clean uniform - how it worked and what it was for, along with everything else on the small table, and by the end she was thoroughly surprised by it all. In Trebond, they washed once a week and by the time she took her turn in the tub it was cold and the water was usually dirty.

Soon after she was ready - and after she had thanked Coram for paying for tack for Spirit - Gary knocked on her door. He brought her to the banquet hall and stationed her at a door to the kitchen so she could pass plates between the maids and pages again.

After that they went down to the Mess Hall to eat. Alanna felt the weariness of the days events setting in and knew she would have to go to bed soon, but Gary had other plans. He and Alex reminded her of the studying she had to do because Myles had given her work for each of her subjects. They both accompanied her to a small library and helped her through the hardest parts of her work while they did their own along with her and then a servant came and found the three of them just in time for lights out.

They bid each other good night and Alanna retreated to her room, changing into a night shirt and flopping back onto her bed. Coram chuckled from across the room where he sat on his bed, polishing his sword.

"How was yer first day, lass?" He asked quietly so his deep voice wouldn't be heard through the door if someone happened to be eavesdropping. Alanna turned her head and looked at Coram, and then she smiled brightly.

"This is so much easier than bein' a girl."

Coram laughed.

* * *

The next morning was harder. She was sore all over, but she forced herself out of bed at her usual time. This time, she got ready and then she did some stretching to loosen her muscles and ease the soreness. When Gary came for her like he had the day before, he found her struggling through the last three of her math problems.

The rest of the day was harder than the first because she was sore and Myles assigned her more work to do. She worked harder and harder with each passing day. Each time a lesson got easier, the masters would make it harder for her. It was challenging, tedious, and the work was endless, but Alanna was too focused - or possibly too tired - to care. Every time she didn't finish her work, Myles would give her extra as punishment because he had to prepare her for what she would face when she joined the other pages with her book lessons, and every time she messed up on something, the fighting arts masters would make her do it again and again until she got it right.

Soon enough one week had passed. Then that one week turned into two weeks and then three weeks. Alanna's first day of serving at the tables came and went easily. She waited on Duke Gareth and followed all of his instructions to the word until she was finally assigned to wait on Sir Myles permanently. The man always had something kind to say - even though, Alanna quickly discovered, he was considered the 'court drunk'. Sometimes, when he drank a little too much, she would assist him back to his rooms and he would give her a copper noble or a sweet.

Alanna and Gary became fast friends. Even after she had learned her way about the palace fairly well, Gary continued to look out for her. He always had something funny to say, too, and Alanna discovered that a lot of the time she could make him laugh simply by saying what was on her mind. It was also, through Gary, that she became friends with Raoul, Alex, and Francis as well and she found that between all of the friends she had made, she was beginning to enjoy her life at the palace.

One night, when they were serving at the tables, the cooks needed more potatoes. They decided to send a page down to the lower kitchens to get some and Alanna offered to go. She found the lower kitchens, which were connected to the Mess Hall, and went inside, finding it almost completely empty except for one girl sitting on a stool by a table, chopping vegetables.

"Hello?" Alanna called to the girl, letting her back-country accent slide a little more then usual. This girl would probably be more comfortable if she realized Alanna wasn't a noble.

The girl looked up and Alanna wondered what such a pretty girl was doing as a Kitchen Scullion. The girl had brown hair, tied back into a braid, and bright green-hazel eyes. She had a small, delicate nose, slim and curved eyebrows, and high cheek bones. She wore a simple brown dress that was big enough to give her a good range of motion, but you could still see the fine figure she had.

"What do you want?" She asked cautiously and Alanna bowed her head politely.

"Th' cook sent me t' get 'im some potatoes." Alanna replied, offering a small smile. The girl eyed her curiously and then pointed over to a pantry.

"In there." She stated and Alanna followed her directions until she found a sack of potatoes.

"You must be Alan, the orphan boy everyone keeps talkin' about." The girl remarked, keeping her eyes on Alanna and returning to her work slowly.

"Yeah. My name's Alan. What's yours?" Alanna asked heaving the big sack onto her shoulder. The girl looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Helena." She finally supplied, still eyeing Alanna.

"Helena." Alanna said, trying it out on her tongue so she would remember it later. "That's a nice name. It was good t' meet you." Alanna held out one hand to her and Helena shook it, smiling.

"You're a strange boy. I can't decide if you're incredibly brave for trying to be a Knight in a noble's world... Or just plain stupid." Helena informed her. Alanna grinned widely.

"Well, I've been told insanity runs in my family, so mayhap that has somethin' t' do with it." She gave a very thoughtful look and Helena laughed.

"Alright, alright. You've won me over with your charm." Helena lightly punched Alanna's shoulder. "Us poor folk have got to stick together, so if you ever need help just come back here. I should be around."

"Thank you. An' if you ever need me, just come lookin'. I don't think I'm that hard t' find." Alanna and Helena gripped forearms and smiled at each other.

"Come now, Alan, you're an orphan! You should know that 'maids know everything'." Helena chastised her, but Alanna recited the last part with her. They looked at each other and laughed. "Well, it'll be interestin' watching you grow up. Some of us here in the kitchen and out in the stables... Well, we're hoping you'll make it. It's been a while since anyone's stood up for us small folk."

"Oh...Then, I hope I don't let any of you down." Alanna smiled determinedly and Helena returned it.

"We're cheering for you, Alan." Helena assured her. "Now you'd better get goin' before the cook whips you for takin' so long."

Alanna laughed and said her goodbyes, waving before hurrying down the corridor back towards the banquet hall. As she walked, she found a smile on her face. It was nice to know another girl, even if she didn't know that Alanna herself was a girl too, especially one of the same social level as her... well, almost.

Alanna hoped that she would see more of Helena during her time at the palace.


	8. The King Of Thieves

_**Chapter 7: The King Of Thieves**_

Three months - and her eleventh birthday - passed before Alanna even realized it. The first break in her new routine came one night when Timon came looking for her just before wash time ended.

"He want's t' see you." Timon never had to say who 'he' was. "You're t' go t' his study."

Alanna hurried to follow Timon's instructions. She straightened her tunic and tried to smooth her hair before rapping on Duke Gareth's door. She wondered what she had done wrong, but she couldn't think of any reason as to why the Duke would want to see her.

He called for her to come in, looking up from his papers as Alanna closed the door behind her. "Alan, come in. I suppose you're wondering why your here, so I'll just get to the point; Every few months or so, I write progress reports on each of the pages. Traditionally, we have the scribes copy what I write and one copy would go to the King and the other to the pages' family..." His sentence faded as he struggled to find the right words for what he had to say next. He did well at hiding it, but Alanna had seen it too many times to miss it - no matter how well hidden it was.

"Your Grace was wonderin' if I had anyone who'd care enough t' read th' report?" Alanna's eyes sparkled with a knowing and understanding that most children her age didn't have.

"Yes." Was all Duke Gareth could think to say.

"Th' healing woman in Trebond an' her apprentice would read it an' they probably want t' know how I'm doin'." Alanna suggested with a shrug.

Duke Gareth smiled lightly and nodded. "I'll inform the messenger as soon as possible." He finished writing on the piece of paper below him and then looked up again. "My report is satisfactory. You learn well and quickly. We are glad to have you among us."

Alanna turned pink with delight. She had never received such a high compliment before, especially not from such an honorable man that had earned her respect within a few moments of meeting her. "Th-thank you! Your Grace." She bowed her head to him politely.

"You may go to the city tomorrow morning as a reward. In the future, you may also go there with the other boys' on Market Day. Since you're new to Corus you'll have to take one of the older boys' with you. Not Alex or Raoul. Alex must take an extra hour of reading tomorrow and Raoul is taking an extra hour in staff work by request." The Duke informed her.

Alanna knew about Alex's punishment for not finishing a large writing project and Raoul had told her and Francis that he was going to request extra time with the Staff Master to work on an attack he didn't understand.

But she was beaming, nonetheless. "You're very kind." She said. "Uh... Could Gary- Gareth come?" Alanna stumbled over her friends name, trying to be formal before the Duke.

The Duke raised an eyebrow. "Hm. He did say you were good company. It will be arranged. Be sure to come back in time for afternoon lessons."

"Yes, sir!" She bowed deeply. "And thank you, thank you very much!"

* * *

Gary had to laugh at Alanna's wide eyes as they walked through the market place. She would turn as she walked, trying to take everything in, and every once and a while she would mouth something along the lines of 'wow'.

"Close your mouth, country boy." He teased in a friendly manner. "Most of this stuff is overpriced anyways."

"But there's so much of everything!" She breathed, closing her mouth but keeping her eyes wide with excitement and wonder.

"Not here, not really. One of these days we'll take a trip to Port Caynn. You'll see real wonders there." Gary told her, stopping to look at a pair of riding gloves.

Alanna thought's wandered to Port Caynn and the promises Gary had just made about it as he inspected the leather gloves carefully, trying to decide whether or not they were worth the price the merchant was offering them at. But her thought's didn't wander for long because a large hand tapped her on the shoulder. She turned and looked up, startled. She found herself looking into the bright hazel eyes of the man Coram had called a thief when they had first arrived in Corus three months ago.

"So, it's the young sprout with the purple eyes!" The man said pleasantly. Alanna took a liking to him almost immediately. "I was beginin' to wonder if you'd fallen into a well." His voice was rough from living in the lower city, but he was educated and spoke carefully. To Alanna, it seemed that he thought about every word before he said it.

Alanna grinned at him in response. Somehow this meeting didn't surprise her in the slightest. "I've been at the palace."

"Who's your friend?" Gary asked, looking at Alanna's acquaintance suspiciously.

"Allow me to introduce myself, young masters." The man bowed. "I'm George Cooper of the lower city. Will you take a cool drink with me? As my guests, of course."

"Thank you, we accept!" Alanna said quickly, so Gary wouldn't have the chance to decline the offer.

George took them to a little inn called the Dancing Dove. The old man who ran it greeted him like an old friend and hurried to bring ale for George and lemonade for the two pages. When the drinks came, Alanna took the chance to examine George more closely, while gulping her lemonade. George said he was thirty-eight, although he seemed younger. His nose was too big for good looks, but when he smiled he was plenty handsome. He wore his brown hair cut short, like most commoners. But the thing that interested Alanna were the feelings she sensed about him. She could feel something commanding, almost royal about him, and also a very strong liking for him, too.

"You shouldn't be surprised at my lookin' you up." He told Alanna. "Truth to tell, I like your looks. We don't see many with eyes like yours. You bein' from the country - you don't look it now, but you did then! - I thought you might like to be knowin' someone in the city."

"Do you always make friends on such short notice?" Gary asked sharply.

George looked at him a moment. "I trust my instincts, young master. In my line of work, you learn quick to trust your instincts."

"What is it you do, George?" Alanna wanted to know. She had a feeling she already did, but she didn't like to assume.

"I -buy and I sell." George winked at her.

"You're a thief." Gary said flatly.

"'Thief' is a harsh word, master Gareth." George looked at the big youth. "Why would you be thinkin' that I am? You've still got your purse and what's in it. Or you had better."

Gary checked and admitted. "I still have my purse. But why do you want to make friends with us? If you think we'll help you in the palace, you're wrong. Don't you know who I am?"

George met Gary's eyes, holding his gaze for a long moment. He could see a great intelligence in the big youth's eyes. One could easily sense that the boy had made enemies with his sharp mind and even sharper tongue. George saw all of this and relaxed.

"I know very well who you are. Gareth of Naxen, the younger. Son of the great Duke himself. But I didn't look you up for business reasons, lad. Truth to tell, were you not with Alan, I wouldn't have put myself in your way. We're not fond of nobles here." His smile twisted. "But I have the Gift. It helps me to See more clearly than most. I knew I had to meet master Alan. In fact, I've kept a close eye on him these past three months. I don't ignore my Gift when it calls me."

Gary shrugged. "I don't know much about magic, but that makes sense. Still, what can Alan do for you? He's just a little guy." Gary grinned an apology to Alanna, who shrugged. She was used to such remarks, both from the pages' and Thom back in Trebond. "And, unless I miss my guess, you're the man the Lord Provost would most love to see in shackles."

George nodded respectfully. "You're quick, master Gary. All right, then. I'm what they call the King of Thieves, the Master of the Court of the Rogue." He announced and Alanna's eyes lit up with excitement. She knew there was a reason why she liked him so much.

The Court of the Rogue was made of all those who lived by their wits. It is ruled by a king - George, for now. Sometimes that king is referred to as simply 'the Rogue'. But mastery didn't last long in the world known as the lower city. The King of Thieves was constantly tested by the expectations of his Court and threatened by the young thieves who looked to take the throne for themselves.

However, George Cooper, the current King of Thieves, had grown quite the reputation. He had held the position twenty-one years and counting, had taken the throne of the Court of the Rogue at the age of seventeen, and was famous for many, many things.

But the one thing that everyone in all of Tortall knew, was that the King of Thieves was the brother of the late Wolf, Sir Link Cooper of Olau, former commander of the King's Crusaders.

George drew their attention back to the conversation at hand with a shrug. "Even with my reputation as the Rogue, who knows when some young sprout will come and do to me what I did to the king before me? When that time comes, I'll need friends." He smiled though, lightening the mood a bit. "Still, it won't happen any time soon. Till then, why shouldn't I make friends with the first lad brave enough to follow my brother's example? I can be a good friend to those who keep faith with me."

Gary looked him over, then nodded. "I like you - for all you're a thief."

George laughed. "And I like you - for all you're a noble. Friends then?"

"Friends." Gary confirmed and they shook hands across the table.

"And you, Alan?" George asked. Alanna had been silent through the whole exchange, watching and thinking, none of her thoughts clear on her small face.

She already knew that her own magic instantly shielded her from anyone else's, so George wouldn't know any of her secrets. And even if George managed to guess, Alanna believed that he wouldn't say anything until he was sure it was a good idea.

"The Gift must be pretty useful t' you." Alanna commented, drinking the last of her lemonade.

"It's gotten me out of more then one tight space." George admitted, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Alanna may be living at the palace, but she was as much lower-city as some of the thieves in George's personal circle. "It helps me keep tabs on my rogues, so mayhap I'll last longer then the king before me." He drained the rest of his tankard as well and set it down. "You need never worry about your pockets, or those of the friends you bring here. But be careful who you bring. One word from them and the Lord Provost gets my head for certain."

"We'll be careful." Gary promised. "Don't worry about Alan, he keeps his mouth shut."

George grinned. "As I can see. Few young sprouts - even those tied to the Court of the Rogue - could listen to all of this and say nothing." George raised an eyebrow at her, a playful look that suggested he'd be watching her carefully. Alanna smiled innocently back at him, making the man snort with laughter. "Well, you'd best be gettin' back. If you need anything, send word through Stefan. He works in the palace stables as a hostler. You'll find me here most of the time, and if not, just ask old Solom." He jerked a thumb at the innkeeper. "He'll fetch me quick enough."

Alanna rose as she and Gary shook hands with their new friend. She looked up into his eyes. "Friends." She confirmed with a small smile and George looked confused for a moment, before smiling. "You'll be seeing us, then." Alanna promised, bowing her head politely.

"I look forward to it." George nodded in response and then followed the pages' to the door.

The two pages' strolled back out into the street, making their way back to the palace for their afternoon lessons. The King of Thieves watched them go, smiling.


	9. Ralon Of Malven

**AN: **Quick question: Is anyone reading this story?...

* * *

**Chapter 8: Ralon Of Malven**

Although the first three months of her time at the palace were pleasant and enjoyable, Alanna had not forgotten Ralon of Malven and he had not forgotten her. Usually they didn't meet, seeing as Alanna was still training as a page and Ralon was beginning his training as a squire, but when they did meet, Ralon made it clear that they were enemies. He was simply awaiting his chance to get her.

On summer afternoons squires and pages alike ended their lessons with swimming as well as riding and because the Kingdom was seeing a time of peace at the time, most Knight's and their squires were remaining at the palace.

Everyday after their lessons, the riding master would allow them the last half hour of their riding lesson to go for a ride and enjoy the lake in the royal forest. They returned to the palace one such afternoon later then usual. Most of the boys hurried to their rooms to wash up, but Alanna stayed behind, taking extra time to wipe down Spirit as an apology for not having much time for him recently.

Alanna only looked up from brushing Spirit's side when she heard a dull 'thud' just outside his stall. Ralon stood there, his saddle and bridal lay at his feet.

"Curry my horse and hang these up." He ordered with a sniff. "I'm going in."

Alanna stared at him. "You're jokin'."

Ralon shoved her into the back wall of the stall and Spirit neighed loudly, stamping the ground as he prepared to defend his rider.

"I said do it!" Ralon snapped. Before she could recover, he was gone. She stared after him, clenching and unclenching her fists.

"Are ye goin' t' do it?"

Alanna whipped around, startled, and found George's man, Stefan the hostler, swing down from the hayloft above the stables. He was a short, blonde youth with pale green eyes and tanned skin from working outside all the time. Animals loved him and he was more comfortable with horses than with people, but he seemed to like Alanna and her friends well enough.

"What?" Alanna asked, not sure what he was talking about.

"Are ye goin' t' clean up after yon glutton?" Stefan spat, hitting Spirit's manger squarely as the golden-colored stallion snorted in agreement.

Alanna looked at the saddle and bridal and drew in a deep breath. The last thing she wanted was to disappoint Coram by getting into a fight, but she had to take a stand. She couldn't let Ralon walk all over her just because she wasn't born a noble.

"No." She finally replied. "I can't. I won't."

"I'll have t' tell his Grace, y'know." Stefan cautioned. "It's th' rules. Th' lads must look after their own beasts. His Grace must know if they don't."

Alanna hesitated. Ralon wouldn't like that. He would murder her. But, if she knuckled under, he would do these things all the time. She couldn't let that happen and she wasn't going to.

"Tell." She said gruffly, going back to work on Spirit. "It's not my problem."

"Think on it." Stefan warned, worry on his round face. "That Ralon won't like bein' in trouble with his Grace."

Alanna sighed and looked up from her horse's side, her eyes flat violet. "Well, that's Ralon's problem, isn't it?" She finished combing Spirit and left.

Stefan shook his head, wondering how the Malven boy would react. _"Th' lad's got guts."_ He thought. _"Not much sense, but guts."_

* * *

By supper that evening the word was out; Ralon had to spend his nights for a month working in the stables. Prince Jonathan and his friends had trouble hiding their glee.

"Serves him right." Francis remarked as they all spoke in Gary's room before lights-out. "He just left his tack on the ground. His horse was covered in sweat! That's no way to treat a good horse."

"I wonder how he thought he could get away with it?" Alex murmured quietly.

"He probably tried to make some little guy do it!" Raoul said with contempt. "Isn't that his usual?"

Alanna had been permitted to join them - partially dragged along with them by Gary and Raoul - and now she turned red, looking down at her shoes and examining the laces closely. It was still strange for her to look down and not see her bare feet.

Gary's sharpness caught the blush, though. "Alan, you were the last one in this afternoon. Did you see anything strange?"

"No." Alanna said. She didn't approve of lying, but sometimes a lie could prove better then the truth.

Raoul grinned. "I'd like to see him mess with our Alan. I'd pound him to a pulp!"

It was no secret that Alanna had become a favorite of Raoul and he didn't care who knew about it, but Alanna wasn't sure how she felt about being 'our Alan'.

Alanna made a face. "I do my own fightin', thanks."

"Raoul just wants an excuse." Prince Jonathan explained, a smirk playing across his lips. "He _likes_ hitting Ralon."

"Ralon didn't make anyone else put his tack away?" Alex wanted to know, steering the conversation back to it's point. "You didn't see anything strange?"

"No." Alanna didn't look up, afraid of meeting one of their gazes. _"It wasn't strange."_ She mentally excused her lie. _"Ralon does things like that all th' time."_

The servants arrived, then, and sent all of them off to their rooms for lights-out. Jonathan walked back to his room, frowning thoughtfully. It was obvious to him that there was trouble brewing between Ralon and the boy, Alan, but there didn't seem to be anything he could do to stop it.

Ralon's punishment didn't keep him from the afternoon rides, so he was with the other boys at the swimming hole the next day. The weather was hot and damp. Most of the boys stripped down to their loincloths and leaped into the pool. Alanna sat under a shady tree, glancing wistfully at her friends every once and a while. She would have loved to join them.

Ralon suddenly planted himself right in front of her. "Too good for us, _Master_ Alan? Afraid to get in the same water as us?"

Alanna looked up. Her ears perked up as all of the boys faded to silence the second they noticed what was happening, she could feel her hair - now a short mop on top of her head - bristling, and her fingernails dug into the fabric of her breeches.

"Leave me alone." She snapped, crossing her arms and wishing she could disappear into the tree she was leaning against.

"'Leave me alone'." Ralon mocked her, swinging his hips. "To good to swim with us, Alan the Bastard?"

"I don't feel like swimming." Alanna's voice was low, guarded. Almost a threatening growl. The others were watching her, wondering if she was a coward. _"He'll kill me."_ She thought. _"I'm just a girl and he'll kill me."_

Ralon grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet, painfully. "Into the water, page." He gritted. "We'll have some fun."

Alanna thought fast and rammed herself into Ralon's stomach. The older boy yelped and toppled into the pool, but he didn't release Alanna's arm like she had hoped. They both fell in with a large splash, hitting the water painfully.

When they surfaced, Ralon started to thrash around, trying to recover from the shock, but Alanna immediately swam for shore and hauled herself up onto the bank. Luckily, the too-big, dark-blue uniform hid everything it needed to, even when wet and Alanna sighed heavily in relief as her hair dripped on her face and shoulders.

"Why, Ralon!" Cried Raoul. "Let me help you!" Seizing one of Ralon's flailing arms, the bigger youth yanked Ralon's legs from under him. Ralon sank to the bottom of the lake with Raoul on top of him. He struggled frantically, but Raoul was impossible to budge. When Ralon finally resurfaced, he was half-blind and three-quarters drowned. He glared at the wickedly grinning Raoul.

"Malven!" Alanna shouted, getting to her feet. "I hate swimmin'! Don't try t' get me in th' water again! An' don't order me 'round either!"

Jonathan put a hand on Ralon's shoulder as Alanna stalked back over to her tree. "You heard Alan." The Prince whispered icily. "Don't forget." He shoved Ralon under the water again.

Alanna returned to her shady seat under the tree, shaking slightly. From what she wasn't sure, but she didn't really care. Ralon wouldn't forget this, but there was no sense in worrying about trouble until it actually happened.

That evening she was serving Sir Myles, as usual, when Ralon passed her. Under the noise of serving he hissed in her ear. "Part payment, bastard." And pinched her side viciously.

Alanna dropped the plate she'd been holding, biting back a yelp of pain. She cleaned up the mess, knowing she'd get it later from Duke Gareth, and bit her lip until it bled. When she returned the plate to the kitchen, she took a moment to wipe her lip on the inside of her sleeve where no one would see it.

"Everyone slips." Sir Myles told her kindly, once she returned with another plate. "Uh, Alan, I feel a little tired. Would you be so good as to escort me to my chambers after the King rises?" She nodded, puzzled. Sir Myles had been drinking lightly this evening. Unless he was completely drunk, he never asked her to walk him to his rooms.

As she suspected, Sir Myles didn't need any help walking to his chambers. Once at his rooms, though, he stopped her when she turned to go. "A moment, Alan, if you please."

Alanna took the seat he gestured to, wondering what he wanted, as the Knight lit a branch of candles and placed it on the table between them. He poured himself a glass of brandy and nodded to a bowl of fruit on the table.

"Help yourself. I'll try not to keep you from your supper too long." He said.

"Thank you, sir." Alanna took an orange and began peeling it.

"Young Ralon is picking on you, isn't he?" The older Knight asked rather bluntly.

Alanna froze for a second, but then continued peeling her orange more vigorously then before. "I don't know what you're talkin' about, sir."

"Don't be coy, Alan."

"Sir?" Alanna raised an eyebrow at him.

"Don't try to hide something we're both aware of. I see much of what goes on around here, it's one of the reasons why I drink so much, and I see Ralon bullying you when you're alone or with the younger boys." Sir Myles told her.

Alanna shrugged. "I'm not a crybaby or a telltale."

"Do you think you'll lose the other boys' respect if you say anything? Prince Jonathan would be the first to take your side." Sir Myles informed her.

"I have to handle this myself." Alanna told him, feeling a little uncomfortable with how personal the conversation was becoming.

Sir Myles shook his head. "What are you trying to prove?" He demanded. When she refused to answer, he went on bitterly. "Oh, I truly love our Code of Chivalry. We are taught that noblemen must take everything and say nothing. Noblemen must stand alone. Well, we're men. Men aren't born to stand alone."

"Some people are." Alanna replied quietly. "Or they have t'. Isn't that th' same thing?"

Myles shook his head, calming down a bit at Alan's sudden change in mood. "No, it isn't." He sighed. "You'll have to fight him in the end."

"I know, sir." She said, her face blank.

"Alan, he's taller and heavier then you! He'll kill you!" Sir Myles exclaimed.

Alanna put her orange aside and sat a little taller. "Then I fight him till he let's me alone, or till I get big enough t' beat him. I can't let him walk all over me, Sir Myles. I can't an' I won't. When you're a -" She stopped, horrified. She had almost admitted that she was a girl! She rushed on, hoping Sir Myles wouldn't notice. "When you're an orphan, like me, you either quit an' get picked on all th' time, or you stick it out an' fight for what you want. I've got t' stick it out!"

Myles made a face at this. "Run along to your supper." He said finally and she got up to go. "Alan."

"Sir?" She turned back, her hand still on the door handle.

"If you have to hit - hit low." The older Knight advised her.

Alanna grinned and bowed. "Thanks, Sir Myles. I'll keep that in mind."


	10. At The Back Of The Stables

**Chapter 9: At The Back Of The Stables**

Trouble came the next day, in the stables. Alanna was there, grooming Spirit, the others had already gone in to wash up and change into clean uniforms. She was dreaming of the adventures she would have as a Knight one day with her mighty, loyal stead by her side and her father's sword in hand. Her wonderful daydream was interrupted by the creaking of the stall's door.

An ugly sneer twisted across Ralon's face as he glared down at her. "I suppose you thought our talk yesterday was the last one."

Alanna drew herself up, standing straight, but her hands trembled with nervous energy. "No." She said flatly.

Ralon staggered around her, eying her small form. Part of her was relieved he didn't know she was a girl. "You're too big for your breeches. You aren't so snappy when you don't have Raoul or Gary to hide behind, are you?"

She clenched her fists. "I don't hide behind anyone!" She retorted. "An' I don't have t' pick on someone littler'n me t' prove what a man I am, either!"

He grabbed her by the front of her shirt and yanked her up onto her toes so he could get in her face. "I won't take that from you, dunghill trash!" He spat in her face and then threw her against the back wall of the stall.

He came at her with his fist raised high, so she ducked under his arm and hit low and hard. Ralon doubled over, clutching his lower belly in pain, and Alanna wait, legs braced, fists ready.

Spirit reared up onto his back legs, ready to defend his rider, but she waved him off with her hand. The horse dropped, snorting in disagreement and worry, as he began trampling the ground beneath his hooves. He didn't like this human boy, but his rider insisted on fighting him herself.

"Take it back. Or I'll stuff yer mouth with dung, since ye like it so much!" Alanna said, shifting from foot to foot.

Mercifully, no one saw her when Alanna returned to her room. She closed the door and bolted it, keeping her head down. Coram had her bath waiting for her.

"Mother of Darkness." He whispered under his breath when he saw her. "What happened?"

She risked a glance in the mirror. Her right eye was already swelling, her bottom lip was split, part of her upper arm was bleeding from when she scraped it when she fell on her side, and bruises littered her body. Her uniform was a bloody, dirty mess and she couldn't help the grimace that crossed her features when she saw herself. "I fell down."

Coram placed his index finger and thumb on her chin, forcing her to look up at him. She flinched as he wiped her face with a wet cloth. His callused hands were surprisingly gentle. It reminded her of when she was very small, when she would fall down and there would always be a large hand that came and picked her up again.

"It's lyin' ye are. Ye were in a fight." Coram stated as he cleaned the blood from her lip off her chin.

"I said I fell down." She gasped when he touched her eye.

"Ah. Th' ground bloodied yer arm, split yer lip, an' punched ye in th' eye, all at once? Would ye prefer t' say 'twas yer horse? Th' big milksop? Th' others didn't say ye were hurt, so ye must've 'fallen' in th' stables." He eyed her suspiciously and Alanna refused to meet his gaze.

"I don't want t' talk 'bout it." She muttered, glaring at the floor next to Coram's feet.

Coram grinned. "I'm off t' fetch some raw meat for where th' ground punched ye in th' eye. I'll tell th' other lads yer ill." He clapped her on the shoulder with his heavy hand and said gruffly. "Ye're a plucky lass. I'm proud of ye. An' I think it's time I gave ye a bit of help."

She went to her bed after Coram left. She flopped onto her stomach and wrapped her arms around the pillow at her head. She felt angry, frustrated and humiliated. This wouldn't have happened to a _real_ boy.

Someone tapped on the door from the other side, making Alanna stiffen, and a slightly muffled voice called through the wood. "Alan? It's Raoul. Coram says you're sick. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She called back, hoping he would just go away.

"Can we come in?" He asked.

Alanna's eyes widened in horror. We? They were all out there? "No! Go away!"

"Alan? It's Alex. What's the matter?" Alex tried.

"There's nothin' th' matter!" She shouted. "Just leave me alone!" A brief silence followed her outburst, but then they cornered her without even knowing it.

"Alan. Open the door." This was Prince Jonathan. And he was giving an order. A tingling feeling ran up Alanna's spine. She couldn't refuse a royal order. Not from the King, not from the Queen, and not from her Prince. An order was an order.

She slowly rose from her bed and walked over to the door. She very, very slowly opened the heavy wooden door. It was nearly dark, maybe they wouldn't even notice. All of her friends were waiting there when she finally finished opening the door. She kept her eyes on the floor.

"I -I'm sorry I yelled. It's just th' heat, I guess -"

"Look at me." Jonathan commanded. The tingling in her spine returned and she couldn't say no. She hesitantly rose her head and met the Prince's gaze, giving him look for look with her good eye. She tried her best to ignore the gasps and murmurs of pity.

"What happened?" The Prince asked finally.

"I fell down, Highness. In th' stables." She clenched her fists, resisting the urge to examine her shoe laces. Now they all knew what a weakling she was.

Jonathan held her gaze for a long moment. "I'll make your excuses to Uncle Gareth. We'll bring you something to eat later."

"Thank you." She murmured. "I'm not hungry."

"Here, lad -What's this?" Coram had returned with the raw meat for Alanna's eye. "Alan had a bit of an accident, that's all. Ye'd best be gettin' t' th' tables. His Majesty's 'bout t' start."

The others nodded and hurried away, but Prince Jonathan hesitated a moment. "I'll be back." He said and Coram bowed.

"Very good, yer Highness."

That night the pages ate in silence. After dinner, Prince Jonathan and his circle went to Gary's room. They remained silent until they had entered the room and the door had clicked shut, before Raoul finally burst.

"It was Ralon!" The large page's eyes snapped and flared once they were alone.

"He didn't like what happened yesterday." Francis pointed out worriedly, looking at Jonathan who was standing next to him.

"It's about time we dealt with him." Alex added in his own soft, icy voice. "He forgets his place."

"I'll teach it to him." Raoul growled, cracking his knuckles.

"He forgot the lesson you taught him yesterday." Gary reminded him, his expression serious with worry for his newest friend and anger at Ralon.

Raoul smiled coldly. "This time I'll make sure he knows what the lesson's about."

"You're forgetting something." They all looked at the Prince. "Alan hasn't and will never admit Ralon hit him. He wants to fight Ralon himself."

"He can't!" Raoul protested. "He's just a little guy. And he doesn't know how to fight!"

"He's got courage." Alex said.

"_Courage_?!" Raoul bellowed. "That coward almost _kills_ him and -!"

"Hush!" Jonathan ordered. "Listen. We have to be sure. Gary, go down to the stables and see if anyone saw what happened. I'll go speak with Alan. And remember, we have to do this his way. Alan would be ashamed if he thought we were fighting his battles." The others reluctantly nodded their agreement to the Prince's plan and the group split up.

"How do you feel?" The Prince asked.

"Miserable, Highness." Alanna admitted as she struggled to sit up. Jonathan closed the door behind him and walked over to the bed, handing her the tray of food he had brought.

"Poor little man. He really whipped you, didn't he?" Jonathan asked, hoping to provoke an outraged retort from the young page.

"Nobody whipped me, I fell." Alanna stated firmly, pausing in her useless picking at the food on her tray to flash an annoyed glance at the Prince.

He grinned. "Deny it all you want, but we both know you had a fight with Ralon and you lost."

"I fell. Your Highness." She replied sharply, stabbing a large piece of meat with the fork and shoving it in her mouth so he wouldn't ask anymore annoying questions.

Jonathan chuckled and patted her shoulder. "You're pluck to the backbone, young page. Get some sleep."

With that, Jonathan stood and left. Alanna stayed seated on her bed and swallowed her large piece of meat, leaving her gaze to stare at the tray in her lap. Her brow furrowed and her eyes became clouded as she thought about her fight with Ralon and the things the Prince had said.

Gary walked into the stables and Stefan swung down from the hayloft immediately. The hostler nodded to the young nobleman as they both walked to the back of the stables where they could speak more privately.

"I thought mayhap one o' ye would be comin' around. What lie is Master Alan tellin'?" The youthful stablehand asked.

Gary made a face. "He said he fell down."

Stefan spat. "Oh, aye, he fell down. O' course, Master Ralon helped him fall, several times! Poor li'l tyke didn't have a chance." He chuckled. "But he got Master Malven a good 'un in th' nuts t' start!"

"Why didn't you stop them?" Gary wanted to know.

Stefan shook his head. "It's th' rules. We don't mess in th' noble's fights."

"But Alan isn't a noble." Gary pointed out logically.

Stefan shrugged. "His Grace don't care. We're t' treat all th' young masters th' same. But, I'll say this, if Ralon ever comes back from th' city with a full purse, George'll have all our ears. He likes Master Alan."

"Let George do as he wants." Then Gary frowned. "What do you mean, 'He'll have your ears'?"

Stefan's eyes were calm as he spoke. "George has a collection. One slip an' he warns ye. Two slips an' he takes yer ear, for his collection. Three slips-" Stefan shrugged again. "He takes th' other ear an' all that's attached. George likes things done right."

The next afternoon Raoul beat Ralon thoroughly. Ralon broke the code and informed Duke Gareth. From then on Jonathan and his friends left any room Ralon entered. Raoul watched Ralon all the time, just waiting for his chance. But since Ralon couldn't take revenge on Raoul, Gary, or the Prince, he found an easier target to go after.

"You told your friends!" He hissed when he caught Alanna alone in the library one day. He blacked her other eye and split her lip again.

Four days later, he caught her again. This time, however, Alanna used a trick Coram had taught her and bloodied Ralon's nose. Ralon, in return, broke her arm.

Each time she had a fight with Ralon, she would get a lecture from Duke Gareth, and each talk they had was worse then the last. Once again, she stood facing him in his office, this time, with her arm in a sling.

"I fell down, your Grace." She said, her face completely straight as she met the Duke's frustrated gaze.

"Great Mithros, boy! Can't you come up with a better excuse?" The Duke demanded, surprising Alanna so much that she actually blinked at him for a few moments before shaking her head and replying.

She scuffed her shoe against the floor. "This one works so well, sir. It -it has tradition behind it."

Duke Gareth actually scowled at her. "It certainly does. I've heard it from every page who's been fighting I've ever trained. With a few exceptions."

"Well, sir, you may not believe me, and I _know_ ye don't believe me, but pride is satisfied all 'round. Your Grace."

Duke Gareth had to hide a smile. "You are pert, Alan of Tortall. An extra hour of mathematics for the next five weeks. You may go." Alanna turned and walked to the door. She was just opening it when he added. "I wish you would thrash him. He deserves it."

Alanna smiled. "I will, one day, sir. I'm gettin' tired of fallin' down."

While Alanna was talking to the Duke, Stefan came to the practice courts in search of the master that was teaching the boys hand-to-hand combat. After Stefan had lured the teacher away, Jonathan and his friends surrounded Ralon. He saw Raoul adjusting the padded gloves on his big hands and began to sweat.

Jonathan was the first, and only, to speak, his voice icy. "You were warned, Malven. You are no gentleman. You are a dog and you shall be thrashed like one."

Gary held Ralon. Raoul administrated the beating, his face impossible to read. When the boys' teacher returned from his wild goose-chase, they were practicing wrestling and Ralon, they said, was sick and had gone to his room.

After that Ralon kept to small bits of nastiness, knowing that Alanna would never complain. If Alanna had ever gone swimming with the other pages', they would have seen the many bruises that covered her body. As it was, she said nothing and continued to study with Coram. She lived with Ralon's tormenting and spent her free time wrestling and boxing. At night she fell asleep the moment she rolled into bed, only to rise at dawn to practice some more.

She was determined to beat Ralon. It would mean she had finally earned her place among the boys. It would mean she could do anything larger and older males could do.

Her splinted arm turned into an advantage. Normally Alanna was right handed, but because Ralon had broken her right arm, she had to rely on her left hand for everything. She quickly realized that she could be twice as effective by using both hands and worked hard to develop her skill.

In mid-October, the palace healers removed the splint. If they were surprised her arm had healed so quickly, they said nothing. Impatient to get Ralon, Alanna had used her own Gift to help mend the broken bone.

In bed, the night the splint was taken off, Alanna waited, awake, until she heard Coram's snores from across the room. Quickly and silently, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and started getting dressed in the dark. Once she was ready, she picked up her boots and tiptoed to the door, trying not to make a sound.

When her hand touched the door handle, Coram sighed heavily. "_Now_ what are ye up t'?"

Alanna winced. "Go back t' sleep." She told him.

"Where are ye goin'?" He asked. She could see his form sitting up in his bed, despite the darkness.

"If Duke Gareth asks, you won't be lyin' when you say you don't know." Alanna pointed out.

Coram grunted. "Lass, it's restriction t' th' palace if ye're caught." He cautioned.

"I know." Alanna replied calmly.

"All right, then. I won't bolt th' door." He said and lay back down. He immediately went back to sleep and Alanna heard his soft snores just a moment after.

It was easy to slip out of the palace from there. She was able to get past the palace walls and started down the road to the city. She wished she could have brought Spirit, but there was no way she could have ridden him out without being spotted. And that was the last thing she wanted.

She had promised George she would be careful whenever she came to visit him. She intended to keep that promise, even if it meant walking the whole way. So, Alanna kept walking without complaint.

Hopefully the King of Thieves would give her the help she wanted.


	11. A New Teacher

**Chapter 10: A New Teacher**

The Dancing Dove was bustling in the middle of the night. When Alanna opened the door and slipped inside, her senses were filled with the smells and noises throughout the inn. The smoke-filled air was so thick that she could barely see through it and the sound of the thieves and their ladies having fun was deafening. For a moment Alanna froze. She wanted to turn away and run back to the royal forest where it was a kind of wild she knew how to handle, but Ralon was waiting back at the palace. Better to face George's friends, who were honest villains, than Ralon the sneak.

But then she came to the problem of how to find George in such a mess?

A tall, chesty red-head stopped and looked Alanna over, arching one brow. Planting her hands firmly on her hips, she drawled. "A bit young for this place, aren't you, sonny?"

Her husky voice was teasing, but there was kindness in her big brown eyes. "I'm looking for George." Alanna replied. "He said I could find him here."

The woman rolled her eyes. "He did? That sounds like him. Tellin' a bit of a boy t' come here at night."

"I don't think he expected me t' come at night." Alanna said, defending her friend.

"Humph. Wait." The woman ordered. She disappeared into the crowded room and Alanna leaned against the wall to wait for her. She returned within minutes and gestured for her to follow. "Come on, then. And have an eye t' your purse."

"I didn't bring one." Alanna called over the din as she followed the red-head.

"Here you be." The woman shoved Alanna into an open space in front of the fire. A table had been set up beside the fire and George sat at it's head, sitting in a big, comfortable-looking chair. Gathered around him were men and women who eyed her curiously. George, though, had an odd expression in his eyes as he looked her over.

Finally he spoke. "Alan, this is Rispah. Queen of the ladies who follow the Rogue. Alan's a friend of mine, from the country."

Rispah flashed a wicked grin. "I'm sure he is." Then she raised her voice above the crowd and called out. "Solom? You old dotard! Bring some lemonade for the boy! Can't you see he's parched?" She turned her gaze to Alanna. "Unless you want somethin' stronger, boy?"

Alanna flushed a light shade of pink and shook her head. "No, thank you."

Rispah chuckled lightly and returned to her friends, leaving Alanna to stand awkwardly before George's table. Why was he staring at her so strangely?

At last the man spoke. "I hear you're havin' trouble with the young Malven boy."

"That's one way of puttin' it." Alanna agreed. She realized then, that she shouldn't have come.

Solom came up to the table with a tankard of lemonade in one, large hand. He smiled at Alanna and welcomed her whole-heartedly. "Welcome back, Master Alan." He greeted. "I see yer arm be healed."

"Good as new. Thank you, Solom." Alanna replied, accepting the lemonade he handed her. After settling the tankard in her hands, Alanna turned to George and gathered as much nerve as she could. "May I?" She asked.

"Yes, of course. Sit down." George invited her, gesturing to the chair straight across from him.

Alanna sucked in a breath. Here comes the hard part. "I -I was hopin' we could talk alone." She didn't like asking for things and the look George was giving her made her feel all the more uncomfortable. "I need a favor."

George stood, grim faced. "We'll speak in my chambers." He put an arm around her shoulders, not in the warm friendly way he usually did, and added. "Solom, we're not to be disturbed."

The innkeeper nodded. "As ye say, Majesty."

George led the way up a narrow stair at the back of the inn and Alanna followed after him, close behind. "They call you 'majesty'?" She asked, curious more then anything else.

"Why not? I'm King here. More King then the man who sits atop the big hill. My people wouldn't give him a word in passing, but they follow my slightest wish." George told her.

"I s'pose." Alanna shrugged.

George unlocked a sturdy door at the top of the stair way and opened it. "You're careless, young Alan, but you're polite." He inspected each corner of his two rooms before he waved her inside. "Sit."

George lit a branch of candles from a torch in the hall and then shut the door. Alanna examined the room she was in more closely, noting the plain, wooden furniture and how neat and clean everything was. She also noted that the candle holder George placed on the table was silver and that the mirror hanging on his bedroom door was wrought gold.

The thief settled his length into a chair by the table and Alanna took the other one, across from him.

"Why am I careless?" Alanna wanted to know. "I made sure no one followed me from th' palace."

The funny look was still in George's eyes. "Humph." He did not sound convinced. "A favor, you say? What's it to be? A throat cutting? Some of my bully boys taking Ralon into an alley for a chat?"

Alanna stood so fast that her chair screeched against the floor and then fell over behind her. "If _that's_ what you think I want, I'll be leavin'." She snapped. "I -I thought..." She shook her head roughly. How could he even _think_ that she would make such a disgraceful request?

"Easy, lad. Here." George calmly stood, picked up her chair, and pressed her back into it. "I misjudged you. Forgive me. I've known many nobles who take advantage. How was I to know you weren't one of them?"

Alanna frowned, still upset. "What do you mean 'nobles who take advantage'?"

George sighed as he sat back in his chair. "I've known nobles who thought I should be grateful for their friendship, grateful enough to do them all sorts of favors. They wanted a kept thief, not a friend. I thought, at first, that's what you came for, but now I see you're here as a friend, askin' a friend's help. It isn't a beatin' for Ralon you want. It's a beatin' he needs."

"That's what I want." Alanna informed him grimly. "But _I _want t' be th' one t' beat him."

"Better and better. Why come to me, then?" George inquired thoughtfully.

Alanna stared at her hands. "Coram's been teachin' me boxin' an' wrestlin', but Ralon already knows those things. He's a squire. I was hopin' you knew some hand fightin' they don't teach us up at th' palace."

George thought about this for a moment. "Haven't they a Shang master up there? The Shang no more tricks then anyone can learn, unless you start as young as they do."

Alanna shook her head. "Th' last Shang master left a few days after I came. Sir Myles says they don't like t' settle down."

George nodded. "He's right. They wander from the day they leave the Shang till the day they die. Peculiar folk, Shang warriors. So." He leaned back, watching her. "Why d'you think I can teach you better then a man who picks his teeth with a broadsword?"

"But that's it." Alanna said pointedly. "Coram's a swordsman. I bet you win _your_ fights bare-handed. Or with a knife."

George grinned. "You're right at that." He stood up, removing his vest and shoes. "Take off the cloak, then, and the shoes too. Your first lesson starts now."

For weeks Alanna worked with Coram and George. Every spare moment she had was spent practicing with one of her newest teachers and working hard to perfect the techniques they taught her. One thing that all of her master's were surprise to see, was her ability to keep going when much bigger boys were exhausted, and she used that to her advantage as much as she could.

Alanna's silence bothered Ralon, but he never realized what Alanna planned for him. He continued to harass her whenever he got the chance and when chances didn't turn up, he would make his own opportunities to terrorize the younger page.

Still, Alanna said nothing. She knew the older boys suspected the feud was still going on, but this was her fight. Not theirs. She would show everyone - including that small part of her that always wondered - that she was as good as any boy at the palace.

About two weeks before Midwinter Festival in December, Alanna was relaxing with George after a lesson. The thief pushed a tankard of ale at her. "Drink up." He ordered. "Are you waitin' till you're a grown man before you give Malven what's comin' to him?"

Until now, George had never let Alanna have anything other then lemonade or water. "You think I'm ready?" She asked quietly.

"'Tis not my opinion that matters. The only way you'll win, is if _you_ think you are ready."

She nodded, understanding what he meant, and raised her tankard, grim faced, before drinking the ale down.

The next day, all of the boys were practicing in one of the indoor practice courts. Alanna kept her eye on Ralon all afternoon, waiting for her chance. Her face felt hot and her hands shook with a nervous energy. If she failed, she would leave Court. She couldn't be a Knight Ralon continued to beat on her all of the time. And today was her day. She had never felt so strong or so prepared.

Stefan came and lured the teachers away once again - probably following the orders of a certain thief. Ralon was in a corner, viciously punching a straw dummy. Alanna drew in a deep breath to steady herself and then walked out to the center of the court.

She stood tall and announced clearly. "Ralon of Malven has beggars and cravens for ancestors." She silently wondered if any of them even knew what a craven was, considering it was lower-city cant to most people. "He's th' son of a lizard and a demon and he has all th' honor of a weasel. He can't even fight in th' open like a man and a noble. He picks his fights in back halls so no one can see him cheat!"

All of the boys were stunned into open-mouthed silence. Suddenly, Gary broke that trance by beating on Jonathan's shoulder, grinning savagely. "I knew it!" He exclaimed. "I knew he'd do it!"

Ralon was gaping at Alanna, gasping for words. "_What_ did you just say?" He finally managed to squeak.

"Liar. Sneak. Coward. Bully." She spat the words at him. "You disgrace your name."

"Shut up!" Ralon screamed, his eyes bulging. "You pig! You _Bastard_! You wouldn't be so brave if your friends weren't here to do your fighting -!"

"I fight my own battles!" Alanna snapped. "I want satisfaction for all I've taken from you. They're my witnesses."

Ralon looked over at the others and then a slow, sly smile spread across his face. "They won't step in? No matter what?"

"They won't. I swear it on my honor as a gentleman. You'd better swear by somethin' else, though. You don't have any honor." With that, Alanna slapped Ralon as hard as she could with the back of her hand and ducked.

Ralon swung at her, missed, and Alanna took the chance to slip around him, spinning to face him as she did so. She shifted from foot to foot as she waited for Ralon to make the next move and he ran at her, his fist up above his head. Alanna dove forward, blocked his attack, and then jabbed him twice, hard, in the chest. Ralon grunted, but retaliated by grabbing her hair and yanking her up so he could grab her throat with his other hand. His meaty hand seized her throat, squeezing until she could hardly breath, and Alanna shoved her thumb into Ralon's eye. Ralon screamed in pain and broke away.

They circled each other carefully. Now Ralon knew that something had changed since the last time they'd fought and he was sweating as he charged at her once again. Alanna lunged forward as well, only she pulled to the side at the last second and used her calf to knock Ralon's feet out from under him, making him fall to the floor face-first. Quickly, she knelt on his back, knowing better then to let him get back up again, and pulled his head back by his hair.

"Give up?" Alanna panted. Ralon gasped and nodded, so she stood up, and he leaped at her, landing a wild - but solid - punch on her cheek.

Thanks to the dishonorable George, Alanna was ready for it. She slammed her fist up and under, into his stomach, making him double over and gag. Swiftly she spun around and her foot suddenly connected with Ralon's nose, breaking it. Ralon collapsed, crying like a small, bratty child.

Alanna stood back and drew herself up tall, even though she heaved as she fought for breath. She wiped sweat from her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Never touch me again. Or I swear - I swear by Mithros and the Goddess - that you'll regret it." Alanna turned to her friends, leaving Ralon there, still crying. "Let's go wash."

"You Bastard!" Ralon screamed after her, making Alanna turn back to him. He was a bloody mess with crazy eyes. "I'll make you pay for this!" He hollered. "Just you wait! You'll be sorry!"

Raoul smirked and clapped Alanna on the shoulder. "Come on." He said. "It's getting windy in here."

Sir Myles found her later that evening, alone in her room in the dark. "You weren't at dinner." The Knight commented. Alanna simply blinked at him in surprise as he lit a candle. "Ralon of Malven has left Court." Myles went on, settling on the edge of her bed as she sat up. "Coram is bragging to his fellow guardsmen about how he knew you could do it all along. The other boys want to celebrate, they think you're a hero. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I don't really know." She murmured and looked up at her tuttor. "I threw up afterwards." She confessed. "I hate myself. I just knew more then Ralon did. An' he always loses his temper when he fights, I just took advantage of that. I'm as bad as he was."

Myles snorted. "I doubt Ralon ever threw up after beating someone smaller and younger than him."

"You think so?" Alanna asked.

"I'm sure of it." Myles nodded. "Alan, there will come a time when you, as a Knight, will have to fight someone less well trained then you. It can't be helped and it doesn't make you a bully. It just means that you've learned to use your skills wisely."

Alanna thought about this, but then sighed and shook her head. It was too much at the moment.

Myles smiled and ruffled her hair. "So now you've proven yourself a warrior to the whole palace. Surely you want to celebrate?"

Alanna made a face. No matter what Myles said, she had used fancy tricks to beat Ralon, that was all. She was still just a girl masquerading as a boy and sometimes she doubted she would ever believe herself to be as good as the stupidest, clumsiest male.

The door suddenly opened. "Sir Myles. You beat me here." It was Prince Jonathan. "How's Alan?"

Myles stood. "I think he's tired. Alan, I'm going, but I wish you'd think about what I said."

"I always think 'bout th' things you tell me." She admitted with a smile. "Thank you, Sir Myles."

The older Knight bowed to Jonathan and left. Jonathan looked at Alanna, tilting his head slightly to the side as a smirk played at the corner of his lips. "What was that about?"

Alanna shrugged, unsure. "I think we were talkin' 'bout what makes a bully."

"A bully beats on people who are littler and weaker than he is because he thinks it's fun." Jonathan replied flatly. "Did you enjoy fighting Ralon? We'll forget that he's bigger then you and a squire, for now."

"When we were actually fighting?... Maybe." She responded slowly, still unsure. "After, no."

"You won't find anyone smaller then you are, so you can't beat on them." The Prince said practically, a teasing smile fluttering across his features. "And after today, we're all going to think twice about whether you're the weakest. Look, Alan, what did you think studying to be a Knight was all about?"

Suddenly, Alanna felt much better. For some reason the Prince's words just made sense in her mind. "Thank you, Highness." She grinned. "Thank you, a lot."

He put a hand on her shoulder, smiling down at her kindly. "You may have noticed that my friends call me Jonathan or Jon."

Alanna looked up at him, locking gazes. She wasn't sure what was going on. "An' am _I_ your friend, Highness?"

"I do believe you are." He told her quietly. "I'd like you to be." He offered her his hand.

She took it. "Then I am... Jonathan."


	12. Death In The Palace

**Chapter 11: Death In The Palace**

Duke Gareth's lecture the day after Alanna's fight with Ralon was long and impressive. He spoke to her about the duty one noble owes another, about keeping the peace on palace grounds, and about people who become bullies. He informed her that fighting with the hands was an undignified pass-time taken up by commoners or an art practiced by the Shang Warriors and that she was neither a commoner - although Alanna did have to refrain from commenting that she was an orphan and therefore she ranked lower than the average commoner - nor a Shang Warrior.

By the end of her meeting with his Grace, Alanna had to write a formal written apology to Ralon's father and she was restricted to the palace for two months.

Alanna stood at attention, listening carefully. She loved the way the Duke talked. And it helped that she knew he was pleased that she had beat Ralon, not angry. She also knew that he could never tell her so, because she had broken the rules, and that she had to take her punishment without complaint, because she had known the rules when she broke them.

The Noble world, Alanna quickly learned, was governed by rules, with a rule to cover every situation. Fighting on the palace grounds was breaking the rules and Duke Gareth had to teach her that. Yet the rules governing what a noble could take in the way of insults said that Alanna _had_ to fight Ralon, and Duke Gareth was proud of her because she had protected her honor as a noble - even though she was not born a noble.

In the end, knowing the rules made life at the palace easier. She didn't grow angry with the Duke, because she knew that he had to follow the rules just as she did, and she knew he wasn't truly angry with her.

It made Alanna think that mayhap their Code of Chivalry wasn't so bad.

On the second day of the eight-day-long Midwinter Festival, King Roald made Jonathan, Gary, Alex, Raoul, and several other fourteen-year-old pages into squires. All of the squires had been approached by squire-seeking Knight's and so they were all put in the service of a Knight Master.

Many things changed then. Because there was peace in the realm, most Knight's and squire's remained at the palace, but there were some who preferred to continue serving their Kingdom by chasing bandits and such business, so many of Alanna's friends were gone for long periods of time, training with their Knight Masters and when they did stay at the palace, they had more duties to fulfill and they served at the evening parties when the pages were dismissed.

Alanna had helped her friends move into their new quarters - rooms connected to that of the Knight they now served - and wondered how everything would change.

Things changed, but they also didn't change. Francis and Alanna grew closer, being closer in age and both of them still pages, and they would constantly joke and study and train together. The squires also joined them in what little free time they had, but Alanna missed having lunch with their circle every day and spending their afternoons together as they trained. There was no more Gary to make jokes about the stuffy Deportment master during lunch, no more Raoul to get extra training with her during the times when they didn't have work to do, and no more Alex to explain the snarls of mathematics to her.

Then one night, Jonathan came to her room with his book of battle history. Alanna knew that Jonathan spent much more time at the palace then any other squire, because his Knight Master was his father, the King, as is tradition. But Alanna was still confused as to why he would take precious moments of his free time to visit her until, that is, Jonathan explained that he'd gladly help her with mathematics, if she would explain how the battles in the dull history book were fought. Apparently, Myles had let it slip that she was quite good at reading, writing, and stories - whether they be history or fairy-tale.

Alanna was more then happy to accept his offer. Many evenings after that the two could easily be found in each others rooms, heads bent together over a history book or a sheet of paper...

The Sweating Sickness struck in March, without warning, and it spared no one. People in the city, palace servants, priests, even the Queen. Duke Gareth was next, and then the Lord Provost.

Sir Myles and Helena remained healthy.

"There's so much wine in me that there's no room for sickness." Myles told her one morning while he was tutoring her, during a point when they had gotten off their main topic. "So now will you stop telling me not to drink anymore?"

Alanna didn't try to argue with him, but instead brought her worries to Helena, who told her not to worry so much because the older Knight had probably survived much worse in his time. Alanna responded by turning her worries on to Helena, who laughed.

"My grandmother's a healer in the city, so stop worrying. I may not have the Gift, but I know how to stay healthy better than most nobles." Helena smiled.

Alanna herself was fine and she was working harder then she ever had before. Every time another servant fell ill, Alanna's chores increased. There were no classes, most of the teachers had the sickness, but whenever she had the chance she would study with Sir Myles, because it was the hardest part of her training.

Even so, most of Alanna's time was spent making beds, washing dishes, and cleaning the stables. Alanna's father had taught her from birth that no job was too dirty for any true noble and she had done the work for most of her life. In fact, she enjoyed the time she got to spend with Stefan and Helena.

The pages and the squires - the youngest, healthiest people in the palace and the city - were the last to fall ill. It was then that the Dark God came to the palace to claim his first victims. In the city, where the sickness had started, so many had died that the Dark Gods priests took the dead away in cartloads. Within a single week, the God of Death had claimed three pages, five squires, and the Lord Chamberlain.

Raoul was the first of Alanna's close friends to get sick and when she went to visit him, he smiled at her weakly.

"I feel silly. Laying in bed while everyone else is working." He said. He shivered under the mass of heavy blankets. "How are you? And how's old Coram?"

"We're both fine." Alanna told him, tucking the blankets in more tightly around him and helping him get a drink of water.

"And Jon?" He asked.

"Not even a sniffle. He stays a lot with th' King." Alanna replied, stoking the fire so it would continue to keep the room nice and warm.

"I don't blame him. Mithros willing the Queen will get well." Raoul sighed and shook his head. Alanna wiped the sweat off his forehead and then he gave her a shove. "Get out of here before you catch it."

Alanna soon found that she couldn't sleep, because she couldn't forget Maude's warning to use her Gift for healing whenever she had the chance. She knew the Gods punished people for ignoring magical abilities, but the idea of using such an immense power gave her the shakes. She knew that if she used her Gift and lost control, she could destroy herself and anyone around her, and Alanna had never been sure of her control over her Gift.

Her sleepless nights and guilt grew even worse when Gary, Alex, and Francis all got the fever within two days of each other. Francis was the sickest, delirious by the end of the first day. Alanna overheard one of the healers saying that those stricken so badly the first day usually died. And there were other frightening stories - stories that the Sweating Sickness was caused by sorcery, that it drained healers of their magic until they were too weak to help anyone.

Because of this and the Queen becoming ill, rumors had begun to shift throughout the palace that the King's oldest son, Prince Peter, was planning to return home from Tyra, but the King insisted that he stay away so he wouldn't risk falling victim to the sickness as well.

Alanna spent most of her time doing chores and trying to help in any way she could, but whenever she had a few precious moments of free time, she would visit her friends. Each time she saw one of them, her guilt grew heavier on her shoulders, especially Francis. She was only allowed to see him once, but then only the healers were allowed into his room as he struggled to survive the nights.

One day, during a rare moment of free time, she couldn't bring herself to face them again. She was too ashamed and confused. Instead, she went out to the palace gardens and wandered until she came across a bench and then she sat down. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the many scents of the garden, and she even smiled a small smile when she noticed the faint smell of Moonflowers nearby.

Then the smile faded as she released her breath and all her thoughts came rushing back to her. She leaned her head forward into her hands and gripped her short, moppy hair. It was longer then she thought, she would probably have to cut it sometime soon.

It wasn't until she heard footsteps on the gravel path nearby moments later that she finally looked up. She found Sir Myles standing about two stride-lengths away. He closed that distance and sat on the bench with her, sighing heavily as he did.

"It's hard, isn't it?" Myles asked, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "Watching everything that's been happening and not knowing how to help?"

Alanna looked up at Myles, a little unsure, but then she remembered that despite being her tuttor, Myles was still her friend. If anyone would understand moral questions, it was most definitely him.

"Sir, can I ask you somethin'?" She spoke quietly.

"Of course. What's on your mind?" He inquired, settling into his seat on the bench.

"I-if a person has power, somethin' that could be good or evil, should they use it?" She struggled to find the right words for her question.

"A power such as magic?" Myles looked at her shrewdly.

Alanna scuffed her foot against the ground. "Well, yes. Th' Gift."

Myles frowned and shook his head. "It depends on the person, Alan. The Gift is simply an ability. Not all of us have it, just like not all of us have a quick wit or sharp reflexes. Magic isn't good or evil by itself. I believe one should only use it when they are sure their cause is just. Does that help?"

Alanna made a face, wrinkling her nose. "You couldn't give a person a simple yes or no, could you?"

Myles chuckled and shook his head again. "Not in this case. Moral issues rarely have simple yes or no answers."

Alanna thought on this for a few moments and slowly began to piece a few things together, making her feel a little better then she had in days. It wasn't until she heard Helena calling for her that she was broken from her train of thought.

"You'd best get back to your chores." Myles smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder and then standing up with a heave. "I've work to do as well, now that I've taken a rest."

Alanna stood quickly and bowed to the older man. "Thank you, Sir Myles."

The Knight just smiled. "I'm happy to help whenever I can."

Two days went by as Alanna mulled over what Sir Myles had told her. She worked harder on all of her chores, but every time she worked up the nerve to go and offer her help to the healers, she would stumbled over her words until she gave up and made up some excuse.

The idea of using her magic still scared her. She had seen the evil it could be used for and she had seen the destruction it could cause. She was terrified she wouldn't be able to control it.

The fever itself didn't give her much of a choice though. Coram and Timon found her washing dishes in the morning, grim faced and anxious.

"Alan." Timon called as they approached Alanna and Helena and their tub of dirty pots. The two girls looked up, then at each other, and then back at the two men.

Coram's voice was gentle as he spoke. "Th' Prince took sick last night. He's callin' for ye."

Alanna put aside her dishcloth and stood, her throat tightening with fear. "How is he?"

"Bad." Timon said.

Alanna hesitated a moment, glancing at Helena and the work that was left to be done, but the other girl ushered her away. "Go." Was all she said and Alanna nodded her thanks.

Alanna raced to Jonathan's room, the two servingmen behind her. She immediately opened the door and froze at what she saw before her. People were crowding around Jonathan's bed, the incense in the air was so thick it made her sneeze, and the priests of the Dark God were chanting prayers for the dying while the Chief Healer stood aside. Duke Baird was a beaten man. Jonathan was hallucinating already and the healer had learned that people stricken so badly from the first usually died. Only Francis and two others had lived and they were still struggling horribly.

Fury made Alanna gasp for breath. How could anyone get well in a menagerie? How could Jonathan breathe? This went against every commonsense rule Maude had taught her for healing; clean air, quiet, absolute cleanliness, calm and reassuring voices. Didn't these people know _anything?_

Alanna opened her mouth, then slammed it shut again. She had almost started ordering everyone to get out! She could guess how they'd take such an order coming from a page.

Instead, she turned to Coram. "Get Sir Myles. Now."

The burly soldier looked down at her. He knew that look in her eye. "Ye aren't plannin' somethin' foolish, are ye?"

"No more foolish than _that_." She retorted, jerking her head at the crowded room.

Coram sighed and looked to the puzzled Timon. "Stubborn as a mule, this one is. We'd best fetch Sir Myles."

The two men left and Alanna went outside, shutting the door quietly behind her. She would wait out in the hall, rather then watch that insanity any longer. Luckily, it wasn't terribly long before the two men returned with a curious looking Myles.

"I need your help." Alanna told the Knight abruptly. "Just look in there."

Myles did as he was instructed, but soon pulled away from the door and closed it again. "You know there isn't much hope for him." He told Alanna softly. "Not if he's so ill this soon."

Alanna's eyes and her voice were as hard as stone when she next spoke. "Mayhap there is an' mayhap there isn't. Look, I've got th' Gift. I've trainin' in healin', th' Trebond healer taught me everythin' she knew." When he didn't scoff at her or start laughing, Alanna plowed on quickly. "I may be only eleven, but some things even a scut knows. You never make a lot of noise an' fog th' air with incense in a sickroom! An' my Gift hasn't been drained like th' palace healers." She saw the doubt in the man's eye and added. "Jonathan's been callin' for me. I think he knows I can help."

Myles tugged on his beard thoughtfully. "I see. And what do you want _me_ to do?"

Alanna drew a deep breath. "Get those people out of there. They'll listen t' you." She insisted, sure of it. "Get them out of there so we can air th' room an' so I can talk t' Duke Baird."

"That's a tall order." Myles said thoughtfully, thinking it over. He shrugged. "You're very convincing, Alan. And what have we got to lose?"

She looked up at him, her eyes clouded with emotions that he could not place. "Jonathan." She whispered.

That decided him.

"Very well." He nodded, turning to Timon. "Announce me!"

Timon, looking as if his world had been turned upside-down, threw open the doors and stepped to the side as he exclaimed. "Sir Myles of Olau!"

The crowd hushed and faced the door, the priests stopped their chanting. Myles stepped into the room, flanked by Coram and Timon, and drew himself up. Alanna slipped in, unnoticed, behind them. The change in Myles was stunning. The short, stout Knight was suddenly very regal and very angry.

"Have you left your senses?" He demanded. His usually gentle voice was sharp and clear. "No one can tell me his Majesty knows of this -this folly! I won't believe it!"

No one dared to speak.

"Get out!" Myles ordered. "This is a sickroom, not a funeral." He turned to the priests. "For shame. The boy isn't dead yet!"

After a moment of thick silence, the head priest bowed his head and led his followers out of the room. Several of the courtiers looked to Duke Baird, _he_ was supposed to be in charge. The healer nodded to Sir Myles, relief on his tired face.

"You can do nothing here." He said to the other nobles. "Sir Myles is right. Go to your Gods and pray for our Prince. It is the only way we can help him now."

Slowly they all left and only Duke Baird remained. Alanna rushed to Jonathan's side and looked down at her sick friend. He was stark white and sweating heavily. His breaths were labored and loud, as if he could barely breathe. Alanna tucked the blankets firmly around Jonathan.

"Coram." She called to her mentor. "Open th' windows, let's get some clean air in here."

Baird eyed the group suspiciously. "What goes on here?" He inquired of Myles, who shrugged.

"Alan asked me to help him." The Knight replied. "I follow his orders."

Duke Baird gaped at him. "_You_ follow the orders of a _page_?"

"Alan." Myles said firmly. "You owe Duke Baird an explanation."

Alanna went to the Duke and quickly told him everything she had told Myles, stopping only for a moment to motion to Coram to close the windows again. "I'm not grown up an' I'm not as good -as _well_ trained as you." She corrected herself after a look from Sir Myles. "But I haven't gotten my power drained either. An' he's my friend."

"Friendship won't be enough, I'm afraid." Duke Baird told her. "As a healer you should know that normally, healing only takes a little strength. This fever doesn't. It will drain you of all your strength and if you continue to try and heal, the draining will kill you. Three of my best healers are already dead. Are you really willing to risk your life against this sorcery?"

"Then you do believe the sickness is caused by magic?" Myles stated more then asked.

The Duke rubbed his eyes. "Of course I do. No one outside the city has this sickness. No natural fever would slay a healer. And I find it very interesting that only after all the palace healers have been drained does the heir to the throne fall ill."

"Can none of our sorcerers fight this fever, or track it to it's source?" Myles raised his eyebrows.

"There is no one in Tortall with the power. Prince Peter has been ordered by his Majesty to stay in Tyra where he and Princess Evelyn will be safe from the sickness. Duke Roger could do it, but he's away in Carthak. Even if we could bring one of them here, it would take them at least a month to arrive."

Alanna listened to this, but her eyes were on Jonathan. He was flushed and tossing under his blankets. She bit her lip. If he didn't get help soon, he would die. Alanna just couldn't let that happen.

"I'll try anyway." She said, looking at Baird's stern face she added. "With your permission."

Baird held out a hand to her and she took it. "I'm very tired." He said. "If you are as able as you claim, strengthening me should be easy. Do so."

Alanna looked at the Duke's hand. Slowly, carefully she reached inside of herself. She reached until she felt the warmth of a violet fire that was her magic. Tenderly, timidly she pulled at it and brought a very thin strand of it with her. She let the magic slip down her arm and into the Duke's hand, giving him her energy. When he hissed, his hand tightening around hers, she knew he had plenty of energy and magic.

"So mote it be." She whispered, breaking the spell. The two broke their grasp on each others hands and then recollected themselves. Alanna looked up at the Duke.

He was staring at her as he rubbed his hand. "Mithros guide you." He whispered. "I think the Prince actually has a chance."

He hurried from the room and Myles, Coram, and Timon stared at her in awe, because the Duke had been so awed. Alanna felt dazed and a little lonely. She didn't like people looking at her like she was something powerful and frightening.

"You'll stay?" She asked in a small voice.

Myles wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "You may count on us." He said and the other two nodded their agreement.

Alanna bit her lip, thinking. "We'll try th' natural remedies first." She decided. "Coram, let's build this fire as high as it can go and keep it there." The servingman nodded and got to work. Alanna seized a piece of paper and a pen off the desk. "Timon, I need these things from th' kitchens an' some extra blankets." The man took the list and was gone. Myles started piling the wood that was in the hearth basket onto the fire as Coram left to get more.

"Alan?" Jonathan's voice was a deep rasp. Alanna hurried to his side.

"I'm here, Highness. It's Alan." She murmured reassuringly.

Jonathan smiled. "I know you won't let me die."

"You're not going to die." Myles said over Alanna's shoulder. "Don't even think it."

"Myles?" Jonathan frowned and looked around him. "I dreamed there were people..."

"There were." Alanna assured him. "Myles threw them out."

The Prince grinned. "I wish I could have seen that."

"Come on." Alanna said. "You've got t' sleep." From the look in his eyes it looked like Jonathan wanted to ask more questions, so Alanna reached for her magic again and gently stroked his temple. "Sleep now, Jonathan." Alanna didn't even realize that she had let her gruff, boyish voice slip into a her traditionally soft, compelling murmur. Myles caught himself yawning. "Sleep." She whispered. Jonathan thought he was drowning in violet. He slept.

Coram and Timon returned with everything Alanna had asked for. Coram started using his armful of firewood to build the fire with Myles and Alanna quickly sent Timon to get bricks. She then settled by the fire and brewed mead, honey, herbs, and lemon juice into a syrup for Jonathan's cough. Her hand shook as she stirred.

Myles noticed and took the mixture from her. "What's wrong?" He asked, stirring it himself. "You've been shaking since you got Jonathan to sleep."

She sat down wearily. "Duke Baird was right." She accepted the glass of wine Coram handed her and drank it down. "That fever... It takes it out of me. Like nothin' I've ever felt before." She sighed. "Myles? Could you talk t' th' King an' Queen. They'll be worried."

The Knight handed his spoon over to Coram. "Say no more." He told her. He left, trying to smooth his shaggy hair.

Coram watched her carefully as he stirred. "I hope ye know what ye're doin'."

Alanna rubbed her already aching head.

"So do I."


	13. What Lies Beneath

**Chapter 12: What Lies Beneath**

Later that same day, Timon returned with the bricks Alanna had asked for and Coram heated them in the fire. The two servingmen wrapped the hot bricks in cloth and then Alanna packed them at Jonathan's sides. Then she and Timon piled on as many blankets as they could find. Soon Jonathan was sweating. Hard coughs tore from his chest and throat. Alanna let her syrup cool only a little bit before she helped Jonathan to drink some of it.

Every two hours after that they changed the sweat-soaked sheets and packed Jonathan in freshly warmed bricks and blankets. The room was stifling. Their clothes stuck to their bodies and Coram and Timon had already stripped off their shirts and tunics. When Myles returned from speaking with the King and Queen, he nearly fainted from the sudden heat of the room.

"Duke Baird's with the Queen." Myles reassured Alanna when she looked at him curiously. "He'll see to it that she's kept calm and doesn't come here. And pirates have been attacking Port Caynn. His Majesty is in the War Chamber and cannot leave. They both have to trust Duke Baird's judgement and let us be."

Alanna looked around her. Three sweat-soaked men - and outside the Prince's room, the whole palace - watched her, waiting for what she would say next. It was terrifying.

But she didn't have time to worry about that now. Her Prince needed her. "Timon, let Sir Myles spell you." She ordered. "Rest for a while an' get somethin' t' eat."

Timon obeyed. Now Sir Myles helped her and Coram rewrap Jonathan, and Myles held the Prince as Alanna gave him her syrup. When Timon returned, Alanna made Coram get some rest. By late afternoon Jonathan was coughing and throwing up the stuff that was choking his lungs. By dusk Jonathan was sleeping, but his fever remained and continued to rise.

Alanna sent the others away to rest and eat while she watched over her friend. Duke Baird looked in briefly and left, his third such visit. He never said anything. Alanna just nodded to him, because she had no energy left for conversation.

Eventually Myles returned with a tray of food. "Eat." He told her, handing her the tray. "And I'm setting up a cot in Jonathan's dressing room. You need to rest."

Alanna knew he was right, so she ate without protest and then went to the dressing room to lay down. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow and didn't awaken until night fall. When she did wake up, her friends went for a walk and a snack while she sat next to her Prince, watching over him.

The room was suffocatingly hot, but the Prince still shivered underneath all of the heavy blankets. Sweat ran down his face. Alanna silently gathered her strength as she watched him. If the Dark God wanted Jonathan's life, he would have to fight for it.

The door opened suddenly and Alanna jumped to her feet, bowing deeply to the King and Queen as they entered the room. She felt sorry for them. The King, who had always been smiling and kind the few times she had seen him, looked worried. deep lines seemed permanently carved around his mouth. He kept one arm around his lady, supporting most of her weight.

Queen Lianne sank into the chair Alanna pulled up for her. She was still not over her own bout with the fever and her dress hung loosely on her figure. Her face, too, was over taken with concern for their son.

"Alan of Tortall." The King kept his deep voice quiet, his gaze on the Prince. "How is my son?"

Alanna swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat refused to go away. "As well as can be expected, your Majesty. He slept most of th' day."

Lianne's voice was kind, but a little sharp. "How can you help him? You're only a boy, no matter what Baird says."

"Your Majesty, even I know better than t' fog th' air and surround Jonathan with wailin' people." Alanna replied. "Besides, he called for me. He trusts me an' he doesn't even _know_ I've th' Gift."

"Have you ever been trained?" The King asked.

"I learned everythin' th' Trebond healin' woman had t' teach me, sire. I can heal." Alanna told him confidently.

"Why didn't you inform Duke Gareth of this when you first arrived?" The King demanded.

Alanna scuffed her foot along the floor. "I'm an orphan, sire. Th' only reason I know how t' heal is 'cause Maude, th' village healin' woman, she said th' Gods would punish me if I ignored my Gift an' said she would teach me t' heal. So I could use it properly." She looked at Jonathan then, partly to avoid the King's gaze and partly to check in on his current state. "An' I want t' be a Knight, not a sorcerer. Usin' my Gift just doesn't seem fair t' me."

The King put his hand on Alanna's shoulder and she peered up into his eyes. "From what I can tell, you have a good heart, Alan." He rubbed his forehead and chuckled dryly. "_I_ should have listened to Peter. Perhaps if he were here now, teaching you boys..." He trailed off as he looked over to Jonathan. "Jonathan has the Gift." The King told her. "He gets it from me. From the Conte line."

The King straightened and faced Alanna, a decisive look in his eyes. "If -_when_ he gets well, I shall see to it that you boys are properly trained. I have ignored this part of our heritage for too long. A Knight must develop all of his abilities to their fullest. And evil is often armed with sorcery."

Alanna thought she knew what the King meant. If she hadn't been restricted by the laws that kept orphans from learning magic while they're young, she wouldn't feel so helpless now. If the fever was magical, she was going into a fight badly prepared.

Lianne was fanning herself. "It's so hot in here. Are you sure he can breathe?" She fretted, looking at her son's sweating face.

"We're tryin' t' sweat th' fever out, your Majesty." Alanna explained. "It's best t' try all th' natural cures first."

The King patted the Queen's hand comfortingly. "Remember what Duke Baird said. We can trust Myles and Alan. We _must_ trust them."

Lianne went to Jonathan, who was still asleep, and took his hand in hers. Her eyes were bright with tears. "Peter and Jonathan are all we have, Alan. I am unable to bear anymore children." She smiled bravely at the King. "If my lord trusts you, then so do I."

"Mother?" Jonathan's voice was no more than a whisper. "Father?"

Alanna ducked into the dressing room, allowing the family some privacy. It wasn't long until the King called her back.

"He is asleep. Will you call for us if...?" The King could not say it. Impulsively, Alanna reached out and patted his arm.

"We'll let you know right away if anythin' changes, sire." Alanna promised.

Myles stepped quietly into the room, then, and bowed to his King and Queen. "He'll be alright." The Knight reassured Lianne. "He has all of our prayers."

"Except for those of the one who sent this fever." The Queen stated quietly.

The King and Myles exchanged a quick look. Her Majesty was right. Who was Jonathan's masked enemy? Who would want to hurt the royal family so badly?

Gently, the King took his lady's arm. "Come, my dear." He said softly. "We must leave."

Just as they were leaving, Coram and Timon returned, bowing to the King and Queen as they passed just outside the door. They entered the room to find Alanna rolling up her sleeves.

"Let's get this fire built up again." She said grimly.

It was a long night for everyone. Jonathan's coughing finally stopped. Alanna listened to his chest, smiling when she could hear him breathing easily. But the fever continued, drying Jonathan's lips until they cracked and bled. He fought against Alanna and Myles as he lived through ugly nightmares in his sleep. His voice was worn down to nothing, and it shook Alanna to see him scream without making a sound.

Myles grabbed her shoulders. "Alan, this can't continue! Use your Gift!"

"I've _been_ usin' it!" She cried. "I haven't got th' trainin'-!"

"Go inside yourself, then! Alan, if there's any possible way you can save him, you have to do it now. He's dying!" Myles slowly released Alanna's shoulders as she absorbed this.

Alanna looked at Jonathan as he struggled against the pile of sheets and blankets covering him. She rubbed her eyes. Already she was tired from the little spells and charms she had used during the day.

Somewhere, deep down inside her, she had known all along that it would come to this, but that didn't make what she had to do any easier.

"Coram. Timon." Her voice was quiet, guarded. "You'd better leave."

Coram stepped forward. "Lad -" He began worriedly, but then he saw the look in her eyes and sighed. "Let's go, Timon." He said reluctantly. "We don't want to be here when they start foolin' with serious magic."

They left and Myles bolted the door.

"Myles, could you set up th' cot in th' dressin' room again? I've a feelin' I'll be needin' it." Alanna flashed him a brief smile. Myles was a little confused for a moment, but then he realized; Alan didn't want him near him when he did whatever it was he was about to do.

Myles slowly nodded. "Alright. But call if you need any help with Jonathan." Alanna gave him another forced smile and he disappeared into the dressing room.

Alanna walked over to Jonathan's side and looked down at his pain-stricken face. She had no business trying magic like this. She was no sorcerer, and sorcerers far older and far better trained than her had been destroyed by the power they could not control. The power she now sought.

A groan from the boy in front of her reminded her why she was there in the first place. Alanna took a deep breath and then turned around, facing the fire with her back to Jonathan. Slowly, she knelt on the floor, unwrapping the old rag that had covered her left hand and her father's insignia for years, and placed her left hand on the fur rug that covered the stone floor. Her right hand wrapped around her left wrist and she closed her eyes, releasing the breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding.

Suddenly, her vision changed and she was looking inside of herself. All around there was darkness. Inky black stretched out in every direction, except for a small circle of land right in front of her. The grass was a deep, lush green with several pastel colored flowers decorating it in patches.

Above the meadow-like oasis, there was light. A violet fire that was Alanna's magic. She began to walk towards it, her hand trembling as she reached out to touch it. Her fingers passed through the flame and Alanna felt pure, hot energy shoot up her left arm. It was painful just having her hand in the fire and sweat was beginning to gather on her brow, but she pressed forward, easing more and more of her arm into the flame.

The fire began to flare as Alanna's hand drew closer and closer to the heart of the flame. As the violet flames grew, the very center of it started to glow a pure gold. Alanna wanted to scream, the heat and the pain were so intense, but her fingers still reached for the golden center. The Divine Power that dwelled inside her.

With one last surge of effort, Alanna managed to just touch the golden light with her fingertips and her eyes shot open as the white-hot pain shot throughout her entire body. She let out a strangled cry, but she cut it off by biting down on her lip, hard. Blood slipped down her chin from her lip and tears spilled from her eyes before she could stop them.

She couldn't control it. The power was too strong for her. It was tearing through her body, destroying her from the inside out.

And then He was there.

Strong, protective arms encircled Alanna as big, calloused hands reached forward and cradled her left wrist and right hand, that gripped her wrist so tightly her fingernails were creating small puncture wounds.

A choked gasp escaped Alanna as she tried to take a breath to calm herself, but it wasn't working. Her tears spilled faster and those comforting arms made her feel a safety she hadn't felt in years.

_"You are strong, Alanna."_ A familiar voice murmured in Alanna's ear, making a soft sob escape her lips. _"I will be here and I will guide you. But you must be the one to control this magic. You must fight."_

Alanna gulped several breaths as the voice soothed her. That wonderfully and painfully familiar voice. Alanna steadied her breathing, even if it was still a little shaky, and released her lip from her teeth, but her right hand did not loosen around her wrist.

Alanna clenched her jaw and narrowed her brow. She was strong and she would not let this power destroy her. Not when Jonathan needed her. She was a warrior. And she would win this battle, if it meant saving her friend.

"Thank you..." She whispered shakily to the voice.

Slowly, Alanna began to stand. The golden power, that had invaded her body the second she called upon it, started to retreat as Alanna pushed it back into her left palm, making her birth mark, her father's insignia, burn a bright gold on the back of her left hand. Three triangles, all connected to each other by one of their points. The mark of the Triforce.

Those large, calloused hands continued to guide her as she turned around to face Jonathan and gently urged her forward as she reached for the older boy, placing her left palm on his forehead.

_"Now."_ The voice instructed. _"Call him back."_

Alanna closed her eyes tight and when she opened them again, she found herself inside a black well. Darkness surrounded everything, but there was a light at the top that would lead her away from the darkness. Away from the shrieks and the cackling and the screaming of doomed souls that echoed all around her. She was drifting between Life and Death.

"Jonathan!" Alanna called out steadily, twisting around as she looked for her Prince. "Jonathan!"

A haunting sound split the air as a lone Wolf's howl reached Alanna's ears. She looked towards the source and finally she could see Jonathan. He was far below her, near the bottom of the well, near Death. But a golden Wolf stood near him, it's figure glowing softly in the dark. It's cerulean eyes looked up at her, encouraging her to come save her Prince.

Alanna reached for them, kicking her feet - as if she were swimming - as she slowly drew closer to her friend. Just before she was within arms-reach of them, a shadowy figure, cloaked and hooded in darkness, appeared between them, blocking Alanna's path. It was the Dark God, the God of Death.

"Excuse me." Alanna began politely. It was silly to argue with a God, but he was between her and her Prince. "But you can't have him. Not yet. He's comin' back with me."

The God's shadowy hands reached for her and held her by her shoulders. Alanna could feel the God's unseen eyes looking her over. Measuring her and her courage.

"You can't have him." Alanna said again, firmly. The God pulled back slightly, looking at her face with his hidden eyes, and nodded. Then he was gone. The Dark God had just vanished.

Alanna shook her head, unwilling to waste time thinking about a God and his strange behavior. She reached out for Jonathan again and their hands clasped.

"Jonathan." She said, relief filling her heart as he blinked open his deep, sapphire blue eyes. "Come back." She called when she saw the clouds and confusion in his eyes. "This place isn't for us. Please, Jon, come home."

Jonathan smiled. "I'm coming..."

Alanna gasped as she was jolted back into her own being, released from the realm between Life and Death and released from the magic of the Triforce. Her knees gave out from under her and she collapsed against the side of Jonathan's bed.

She sat on the ground, to tired to move, and smiled when she heard Jonathan's breathing out. He relaxed against the bed and, though Alanna was sure he was still under the influence of the magic, he spoke.

"You finally... called me... 'Jon'..." The Prince rasped and then fell back into a peaceful sleep. Alanna smiled again and shook her head as best she could.

"Alan?" Myles called, coming out from the dressing room.

"He's all right." Alanna murmured as the Knight rushed to her side. "He'll sleep..."

Her bones ached, her head throbbed. Alanna couldn't keep her eyes open any longer. She let her head fall against the edge of Jonathan's bed in a dead faint.


End file.
